A Kiss Is Still A Kiss
by aspdstra
Summary: Chronicles the journey towards and through a complicated but essential relationship. Trory. CHAPTER 8 is here! R&R!
1. We Need A Resolution

DISCLAIMER: No - just, no. Amy Sherman-Palladino is just too brilliant to let anyone else come up with the GG concept, so don't even think it.  
  
TITLE: A Kiss Is Still A Kiss  
  
RATING: PG-13 to R ... nothing X-rated, just a little risqué.  
  
PAIRING: R/T (as if anything else matters); also L/L  
  
A/N: Not that you guys will be disappointed, but I am not abandoning "In An Ideal World"; I am merely expanding my creative horizons. The idea for this fic just hit me one day while watching some Trory music videos, and I had to answer writing's call. I also have another fic in the works - don't have a title yet, but maybe I will soon. Anyway, hope you enjoy it. I worked pretty hard on this.  
  
* * * * * *  
  
A Kiss Is Still A Kiss  
  
PART I: We Need A Resolution  
  
It was stupid. Yes that's it -- it was a stupid thing to do. Completely and totally stupid ... who was he to just force his feelings on her like that? No consideration, none. Obviously, he'd upset her, or else she wouldn't have run out of the piano room crying. Stupid ...  
  
Tristan had been racking his brain the whole day, trying to find a way to make what he'd done disappear. But then the thought of Rory's lips on his, actually kissing him back, kept reminding him why he'd done it the first place. Some would blame it on rampant emotions, or vulnerability, others would try to come up with some alternate, PC reason for his actions -- Tristan, however, knew exactly why he'd kissed Rory. He wanted to -- he had wanted to for some time; in fact, to say he was madly scrambling for an opportunity would be an understatement. Ultimately, Rory was all Tristan wanted; she was the ideal, she was the epitome of his fantasies (good and evil ...) -- she was it. Knowing that, Tristan had to continually remind himself that was all she would ever be: a fantasy, a dream; unattainable, lofty, far off in the land that was too damn good for him. Life was a flaming bitch.  
  
* * * * * *  
  
*STOP! There will be no thinking of any connection between mine and Tristan's lips, no thinking at all -- the wayward thoughts end here -- beyond this point, wayward thoughts are prohibited ... but what a great kiss, huh? ... no, no that kiss was a mistake -- a big fat one too. A big fat mistake -- a big, fat, soft, incredible, earth-shaking, soul-stirring mistake. Yes, good. I'm glad that's clear. Moving on ...*  
  
Who was Rory kidding, really? If the kiss was nothing, if it was a mistake, she wouldn't be thinking about it all day and all night, correct? But that's just what she had been doing -- thinking about the kiss all day and all night. It's not like it was all that long of a kiss either; yet in a matter of seconds, Tristan DuGrey had changed her perspective on kissing. Kissing was no longer the joining of two pairs of lips for the sake of mundane habit -- it was a natural phenomenon. When a kiss is really good, and I mean really good, you start to tingle, the room suddenly rises millions of degrees instantly, and your palms sweat, and your stomach churns, and your head spins, and your legs melt into nothing.  
  
Taking that and Rory's current feelings on the Dean catastrophe into account, everything that she'd gone through moments after the incident made sense. She was emotionally distraught that her first boyfriend had dumped her, hence the crying; she was light-headed, she was flustered, her breathing was erratic, she was suffering from a severe case of butterflies gnawing at the lining of her stomach -- it was all coming together. There was only one thing to be done: Rory had to call Tristan and talk about it; she had to bring up the fact that she had kissed him around a day after her first breakup, therefore stirring emotions that weren't supposed to be there and causing more harm to the resolution of the circumstances than desired -- that was the only way she could move on. It made positively no sense, but she did it nonetheless.  
  
Flopping across her mattress to the nearby portable phone and getting out her trusty, dusty Chilton Prep Directory, she dialed the necessary numbers and waited for a voice at the other end.  
  
MAID: DuGrey residence?  
  
Rory froze, not knowing a simple phone call could have such an effect on her.  
  
MAID: Hello?  
  
Swallowing, and taking notice that her mouth had suddenly become very dry, she smacked herself (mentally) and moved forward.  
  
RORY: H-hi, is Tristan available -- please?  
  
MAID: Yes he is, who may I say is calling?  
  
RORY: Uh, it's Rory.  
  
MAID: One moment, miss.  
  
Rory took her bottom lip between her teeth nervously as she waited.  
  
Meanwhile, Tristan received a knock at his door.  
  
" Mr. Tristan, you have a phone call," the maid's voice informed.  
  
Tristan rolled his eyes, not wanting to be disturbed from his current activity of doing nothing.  
  
" Who is it," he breathed exhaustedly.  
  
" She said her name is Rory, sir."  
  
At this, Tristan toppled out of bed and tripped over himself to get to the phone on his dresser as fast as possible.  
  
TRISTAN: Hello?  
  
Pausing ...  
  
TRISTAN: Rory?  
  
RORY: Hi Tristan.  
  
TRISTAN: Hey (unsure tone of voice).  
  
RORY: So you're probably wondering why I'm calling, aren't you?  
  
TRISTAN: A little.  
  
RORY: Yeah -- 'cuz I don't call much, actually I've never called you before, so I don't know why I bothered saying I didn't call much, that was really stupid, but not to say that I wouldn't ever call, I just haven't up to this present time and I -- I was thinking I should've called before now because I've never called, just for the sake of calling, since you've called me before for school and stuff, so maybe I could call for school and stuff, but I haven't, hence the reason for me saying I've never called and erasing my previous statement of not calling much, 'cuz how can someone call much who doesn't call at all, right? I mean that's stupid, doesn't make sense, it's preposterous, it's foolish, it's ...  
  
Tristan chuckled, stuffing a hand in his right pocket.  
  
TRISTAN: Rory, as cute as you are when you're uncomfortable, I think you should maybe make a point.  
  
Rory, hearing the mirth in his voice, decided not to be defensive and instead smiled to herself.  
  
RORY: You think I'm cute?  
  
TRISTAN: Yes.  
  
RORY: Really?  
  
TRISTAN: Yes really.  
  
RORY: Like cute in a bad way or a good way?  
  
TRISTAN: There's a bad way to be cute?  
  
RORY: You never know what people'll come up with these days.  
  
TRISTAN: I doubt it'll have anything to do with that.  
  
RORY: You really think I'm cute?  
  
TRISTAN: We've already established numerous times my opinion of you, Rory; yes you're cute -- cute, and beautiful, and amazingly wonderful, and I want to marry you and make an endless supply of children for the rest of my life -- happy?  
  
RORY: Define 'endless supply'.  
  
TRISTAN: You mean you'd actually do it?  
  
RORY: Of course not, but 'endless supply' can have so many different definitions, I just wanted to clarify for the audience.  
  
TRISTAN: What audience?  
  
RORY: Hey, no more questions for you mister -- next caller please.  
  
TRISTAN: You called me.  
  
RORY: Oh right.  
  
Another one of Tristan's laughs reached her ears, and she blushed.  
  
TRISTAN: You did have a reason for calling, right?  
  
RORY: Yes, we need to talk.  
  
TRISTAN: And that's not what we're doing right now?  
  
RORY: Smart-ass.  
  
TRISTAN: Shrew.  
  
RORY: Womanizer.  
  
TRISTAN: Prude.  
  
RORY: Chauvinist.  
  
TRISTAN: Coffee addict.  
  
Tristan heard a sharp gasp on the other end and rejoiced at striking a chord.  
  
RORY: Take it back.  
  
TRISTAN: Now why would I want to do that?  
  
RORY: You called me a coffee addict, ensuing that's some type of insult, and therefore implying that being addicted to coffee is a bad thing -- that's just not allowed.  
  
TRISTAN: I see.  
  
RORY: Take it back.  
  
TRISTAN: Why?  
  
Rory rolled her eyes.  
  
RORY: Because I said so.  
  
TRISTAN: Right.  
  
RORY: And because what I say goes.  
  
TRISTAN: Exactly.  
  
RORY: So you'll take it back?  
  
TRISTAN: Negative.  
  
RORY: Let's try this again ... So you'll take it back?  
  
TRISTAN: Hm -- no, not really. It was a nice thought, though.  
  
He was duly rewarded with Rory's growl of aggravation.  
  
RORY: You're impossible.  
  
TRISTAN: So I've been told.  
  
RORY: We need to talk.  
  
TRISTAN: You said that already.  
  
RORY: And then we got into this big thing about how we were already talking, remember?  
  
TRISTAN: Oh yeah, right. So we need to talk.  
  
RORY: Yes.  
  
TRISTAN: About...?  
  
RORY: You know.  
  
TRISTAN: I do?  
  
RORY: Yes.  
  
TRISTAN: Uh huh, and this thing that I know we need to talk about -- does it involve me?  
  
RORY: Why else would I be calling you?  
  
TRISTAN: Well, you were finally admitting to yourself that you want me, of course.  
  
RORY: Am I that transparent?  
  
TRISTAN: Completely.  
  
Rory could hear his smirk through the phone.  
  
RORY: Remember Tristan? Madeline's party...?  
  
There was a minimal gaping silence in their conversation, and the lump in his throat that Tristan had been able to repress for the last few minutes due to the sound of Rory's voice came back with a vengeance.  
  
TRISTAN: Oh.  
  
Rory heard the hesitation and withdrawal in his voice and suddenly became uncomfortable.  
  
RORY: I mean ... don't you think we should talk about it?  
  
Tristan cleared his throat of emotion and responded.  
  
TRISTAN: Y-yeah, definitely.  
  
She smiled in satisfaction, the uncomfortable feeling gone.  
  
RORY: Good. So what are you doing right now?  
  
TRISTAN: Um -- nothing actually.  
  
RORY: Excellent. So is it alright if I come over?  
  
Tristan raised his eyebrows -- so she was really serious about this, huh?  
  
TRISTAN: Sure ... hey wait, don't you need directions?  
  
RORY: Directions are for impotents. Ha! Directions -- ha!  
  
TRISTAN: So is that a yes?  
  
RORY: Meany.  
  
TRISTAN: Thought so.  
  
He then proceeded to give the appropriate commands that would direct her to his house as soon as possible.  
  
RORY: Well that's not so bad.  
  
TRISTAN: I agree.  
  
RORY: Alright then, I'll see you in a half-hour, I guess?  
  
TRISTAN: I guess so.  
  
RORY: Okay -- well, bye.  
  
TRISTAN: Bye.  
  
RORY: Hey Tristan?  
  
Tristan quickly snatched the phone back before it hit the hook when he heard her voice calling him.  
  
TRISTAN: Yeah?  
  
RORY: Do you promise to behave -- I mean, really behave?  
  
TRISTAN: Absolutely not.  
  
RORY: Y'know what, I ...  
  
TRISTAN: Yes Rory, I promise to behave -- that all?  
  
RORY: Well, I can't think of anything right now, but -- yes. So, bye then.  
  
TRISTAN: Bye Mary.  
  
RORY: You promised.  
  
TRISTAN: I am behaving, I just ... I have to call you that, it's like how I have to come to your locker almost every day, or how I have to bug you all the time, or how I have to stare at you in class ...  
  
RORY: Stare at me in class?  
  
Okay, so perhaps he got a little carried away -- his eyes widened in fear, and he scrambled for some sort of explanation.  
  
TRISTAN: Yeah -- it just adds more mental images to my archive so my fantasies about you have the utmost believability. It's all for the sake of believability.  
  
Rory's newfound hopes died at the sound of his usual crude joking, but she disguised it behind her traditional abhorrence.  
  
RORY: Pig.  
  
TRISTAN: Don't I know it.  
  
RORY: Okay -- bye Tristan.  
  
TRISTAN: Bye.  
  
He grinned at how innocent her voice could be and put the phone back on the charger reluctantly.  
  
* * * * * *  
  
So ... was that awful? Too cliché? Please let me know, I want people to actually like my stuff - I mean, if they don't, I won't cry, but it helps to have a little encouragement. You follow me? Good. Hopefully, Ch. 2 will be up in a few hours; I'll do it and upload when I get home from school. PLEASE R&R!!! 


	2. Okay, So This Wasn't Really a Resolution

DISCLAIMER: See the first chapter if you don't already know.  
  
A/N: OH MY GOSH!!! You guys are so awesome! I can't believe I got so many reviews from you already. Thank you so much! Those just made me want to give you guys more -- and fast! So, here it is ... here is the more ...  
  
Also, I decided to use a scene from "The Third Lorelai" - you know, the scene with Rory and Tristan talking about the kiss. I just thought that it couldn't have been done any better. So, giving credit where credit is due (ASP), I am moving forward. Okay, read on!  
  
* * * * * *  
  
A Kiss Is Still A Kiss  
  
PART II: Okay ... So This Wasn't Really A Resolution  
  
" Who were you just talking to," Lorelai inquired nosily.  
  
Rory kept her deer-in-the-headlights look to as much of a minimum as possible while hanging up the phone and appeared unaffected.  
  
" No one."  
  
" Liar."  
  
" Excuse me, I do not lie."  
  
" A liar is someone who lies and you lied so you are therefore a liar."  
  
" No a liar is someone who makes a habit of lying, and I have no such habit."  
  
" Well nonetheless, you *lied*."  
  
" No I didn't."  
  
" Yes you did."  
  
" *No*."  
  
" *Yes*."  
  
" I did not lie, I merely said I was talking to no one, and that is completely true because the person I was talking to counts as no one, so I did not lie."  
  
" You did just now, because if the person you were talking to was really no one, you wouldn't have been blushing when you got off the phone."  
  
At this, Rory was silent.  
  
" HA! I was right! I'm right, and you're wrong! For once I'm right, and you're wrong! God, where are those damn paparazzi when you need them?"  
  
Lorelai grinned good-humouredly at her daughter's sudden shyness and walked more into the room.  
  
" Aw sweetie, come on, we're friends, and friends share, right? So who were you talking to -- I promise I won't tell anyone."  
  
" Oh that does wonders for my confidence, really," Rory snarked, flouncing on her bed.  
  
" Was it a boy?"  
  
" Perhaps."  
  
" Was it a cute boy?"  
  
" You could say that."  
  
" Oh do tell - now what kind of cute is he? Like Justin Timberlake cute, or Tobey Maguire cute, or Brad Pitt cute?"  
  
Rory wore a pensive face briefly then made a decision.  
  
" He's ... well - he could definitely be in a boy-band."  
  
" Boy band, eh? Huh ... and does this boy-band-looking mystery boy have a name," Lorelai questioned, now quite intrigued.  
  
" He was born with one, yes," the younger Gilmore answered with purposeful vagueness.  
  
" Haha, smarty, nice try."  
  
" It was Tristan," Rory finally surrendered, her gaze dropping almost simultaneously with her posture.  
  
If Lorelai was intrigued before, she was beside herself with delight now.  
  
" Tristan? You mean Evil Tristan? Spawn of Satan Tristan? Obnoxious and cocky, over-confident Tristan? The same Tristan who made your first months at Chilton utterly and positively miserable? Are you planning on stopping me anytime soon with an affirmative answer?"  
  
" Yes, I mean that Tristan," Rory gave in, though she rather enjoyed watching her mom go on and on about things for long periods of time.  
  
" Uh-ha - so what did you and this Tristan talk about, hm?"  
  
" Stuff."  
  
" Stuff?"  
  
" Yes."  
  
" Okay, let's narrow it down here, what kind of stuff?"  
  
" You know, like, stuff - Chilton stuff, and friend stuff, and ... kissing stuff ..."  
  
Rory trailed off, not wanting her mom to hear her last words. She failed miserably you'd assess, since her mom hears everything.  
  
" Excuse me, kissing, did you say," she clarified through squinted eyes. Rory knew that look - it was her thinking look. When Lorelai started thinking, it didn't turn out too pretty.  
  
" Yes I did say," Rory hesitated.  
  
" Kissing - as in your lips were actually on his, and there was movement involved?"  
  
" I guess so."  
  
" Did he stick his tongue in your mouth? Did you stick your tongue in his mouth? Was there tongue? How much tongue was it? Did he stick it down there so far that he was scraping the inner walls of your stomach? Details, Rory!"  
  
Far-be-it from Lorelai to beat around the bush.  
  
" No Mom, there was no tongue! It was a short kiss - nice, but short. Geez you have an active imagination."  
  
" So it was nice, huh?"  
  
Rory nodded, biting her bottom lip but still not able to keep the grin from spreading over her face.  
  
" W-well, when did this nice but short kiss happen," she asked eagerly.  
  
" Friday at Madeline's Party."  
  
(A/N: Just a minor thing really. See, this is the way I figure it. I don't know the exact time frame that "The Breakup, Part 2" happened as far as days are concerned, so let's just assume that Rory and Dean broke up on Thursday, and Madeline's Party was on Friday, leaving Saturday for the two of them to stew over their feelings, and Sunday for them to get together before school on Monday - yes? Excellent.)  
  
" Wait, wasn't that the night you came home crying and wanting to wallow after a whole day of not wallowing?"  
  
" Yes, that would be the night. It kind of just - happened."  
  
" Well did you want it to happen?"  
  
" I dunno ..."  
  
" Cop out."  
  
" It came out of nowhere, I didn't have time to think about what I wanted."  
  
" Who kissed who?"  
  
" He kissed me."  
  
" But you kissed him back?"  
  
" Yes."  
  
Lorelai re-squinted her eyes and raised a brow, more for effect than for pensive purposes.  
  
" I see. So he kissed you, and you kissed him back, and then you call him to ..."  
  
There was a pause for Rory to fill in the blank.  
  
" Talk about the kiss - oh crap! I have to go, I have to leave, he expected me, like, fifteen minutes ago, even though he has no reason to expect punctuality from me when he himself has his own time zone, and oh yeah, you don't mind if I take the jeep for a few hours, do you?"  
  
Lorelai tried to make sense of her daughter in a torrent of minor primping and coat grabbing.  
  
" W-leave, leave? Where are you going," she requested an explanation.  
  
" To Tristan's house - I'll be back before dinner," Rory rationalized.  
  
" B-b-but ..."  
  
" Thanks Mom, I'll see you later!"  
  
And with a wisking-away of the keys, Rory was out the door and gone.  
  
" That girl needs to stop being so much like me."  
  
* * * * * *  
  
Winding around a very wind-y driveway, Rory crawled to a halt in front of the DuGrey mansion; well, it was just that -- a mansion. Large, immaculate, decorated with good taste (as far as the outside was concerned) -- yes, this was the world that she envisioned Tristan living in: a large world, very immaculate, and decorated with good taste. Of course, his family just oozed money, so he naturally was on the receiving end of such economic benefits as splurging and other excessive spending activities. No wonder he had the spoiled, rich, playboy routine down -- he lived it.  
  
Dean was nothing like that; he had humble beginnings, and he had humble durings, and he would probably have humble endings as well -- the point being that he didn't need money or renown or a nice car to sweep her off her feet. Although, Dean didn't give her smoldering gazes that made her knees go weak, or kisses that made her rethink the meaning of the word 'kiss', and he certainly didn't imply sex into every conversation they had ... go figure.  
  
Gathering up all her courage, she made the journey of required steps and rang the doorbell. Promptly, a short but poised elderly woman with what appeared to be some sort of doily on her head answered.  
  
" H ..."  
  
With one glance, the woman seemed to know who Rory was.  
  
" Miss Rory Gilmore?"  
  
" Yes," she concurred, a little uneasy.  
  
" Good - my name is Gloria, Mr. Tristan is expecting you. Shall I show you to his room?"  
  
Rory nodded while stepping in gratefully, and after the door had been shut behind her, the maid immediately walked in a quite brisk fashion across the foyer and up the grand staircase.  
  
As Rory had originally thought, the outside of the mansion reflected its contents; just as immaculate, just as tastefully decorated, the walls covered with famous paintings, family portraits and other works of art. Out of the corner of her eye, Rory caught a flicker of blonde hair on the wall beside her, and she was drawn. Moving closer to the picture, she found out it was indeed Tristan; he was younger, but he still had his chiseled jaw and defiant glare. Yet one thing was amiss - his eyes; still the same striking cobalt-blue, but they betrayed the hard-ass image he toiled to uphold - he actually looked ... innocent.  
  
" This way, Miss."  
  
The voice of the maid stirred Rory from her reverie and she followed, making sure not to be distracted by anymore Tristan pictures.  
  
" Here we are; just knock and I'm sure he'll be prompt in answering. Do let me know if you need anything, dear," Gloria offered generously.  
  
" Of course," Rory agreed with a smile and was then left alone in front of Tristan's bedroom door.  
  
The hallway became very stuffy all of a sudden; her palms went into instant clammy mode, and Rory almost banged her head against the wall to reclaim her bearings. Deciding against it, she rapped lightly on the wooden entrance and awaited a response.  
  
When none came, she knocked again ... still nothing. Though she didn't feel right just entering somebody else's room without an invitation, the suspense of the moment was killing her. So, she just opened the door and peeked in.  
  
There sat Tristan - clad in a wife-beater (or as my best friend so eloquently put, a 'manly white tank top') and jeans, lying on his bed with one arm behind his head, accentuating his bicep, and one across his stomach, holding what looked like a portable CD player. He was indeed listening to something; his eyes were closed, his head bopped to a certain rhythm, and his fingers tapped on the disc man as he mouthed the words to a song only he could hear through his earphones. He looked positively adorable, and Rory felt a smile tug at the corner of her mouth.  
  
As Rory stepped more into the space, Tristan discerned another presence in his room, his eyes flying open. Removing his earphones, his Rory-reflex kicked in and then came the smirk - not that it was unattractive, oh no, it was completely attractive; but she had begun to know it as the beginning of innuendo and sexual connotations of all colors, shapes and sizes. Surprisingly enough, she didn't mind so much now, taking into account the way he was dressed and how good he looked in what he was dressed in.  
  
" Mary."  
  
The ice having been broken, she rolled her eyes and came fully into the room.  
  
" I knocked, but I guess you didn't hear me - and it was open so I just came in," she explained, not that she need to.  
  
Tristan got up to put his CD player on his dresser across from his bed then walked over to in front of where Rory was standing, shoving both hands deep into his jean pockets. She looked up to find him looking down at her, his head kind of tilted to the side as if to be observing her like -- something to be observed; her eye contact with him brought a smile to his face, and she glanced down bashfully.  
  
" There something wrong?"  
  
She looked up at his inquiry and caught the tail end of his eyebrows drawn together and him slowly licking his lips.  
  
*Stop that -- right now, just stop it. It must be stopped; there is no staring at Tristan's mouth, it just can't happen. No staring ...*  
  
" Why would you think that?"  
  
" Well, usually every time I come in contact with you, you're either prattling on about some topic of interest or you're telling me to leave you alone, or fall off the face of the earth, or crawl back into my hole. Now you're being all quiet, so I wondered ..."  
  
" Can't I be quiet," she asked, trying to think of how he'd gotten such an accurate picture of her.  
  
" Of course not."  
  
" I can so be quiet."  
  
" No you can't."  
  
" Can."  
  
" I believe you are being the opposite of quiet as we speak."  
  
Rory's normally-wide eyes were lessened to slits for a brief moment, and Tristan thought he had succeeded in angering her. But the feeling left when Rory noticed the amusement in his eyes.  
  
" You're just trying to get a rise out of me -- and I won't be bothered," she told him, a look of triumph portrayed with her chin jutting out in noncompliance.  
  
He chuckled lightly, knowing he'd been found out.  
  
" Oh I'm sure you wouldn't dream of it."  
  
" How do you know what I dream about?"  
  
" I don't see how you could dream about anything else, what with your thoughts so consumed with ravishing my naked body."  
  
She mentally kicked herself again, knowing she'd thrown that one right down the center.  
  
" You wish."  
  
" On a star every night. So, shall I give you the tour?"  
  
" Isn't it all the same? Same furniture, same artwork, same statement of, 'Oh no, you could never have this, thanks for trying'; would I really be missing out on that much, I don't think so," she droned, her shoulders slumping.  
  
" We have a library bigger than Chilton's in the solarium."  
  
" Lead the way."  
  
Grinning at how easy it was to bait this girl into doing things by simply knowing her weaknesses, he walked out the door she opened, a curious Rory in tow.  
  
LATER .........  
  
" How many books are in here?"  
  
Tristan looked over his broad shoulder at her query and shrugged.  
  
" I've never counted actually - I have a life."  
  
Rory shot daggers out of her eyes at his snide remark but knew he meant in jest.  
  
" Oh yes, how could I have forgotten? Entertaining your string of women must no doubt be tiring. I don't know how you can still stand after it all," she quipped.  
  
" It's hard really, but I manage. Besides, no one could be more exhausting than you are, and I haven't even had my way with you yet," he returned, drawing from his endless supply of one-track mind comments.  
  
" And you never will - not while I'm still alive and breathing, at least."  
  
" The night is young."  
  
" It's the middle of the afternoon."  
  
" Minor technicality - so we're supposed to talk?"  
  
She ducked her head shyly.  
  
" Yeah. Look about the other night...."  
  
" Look, I was upset over Summer," he interrupted.  
  
" Yes and I was upset over Dean," she agreed.  
  
" So, then it doesn't mean anything -- right?"  
  
" Right."  
  
" So then - right, so then that's it. We chalk it up to a bad night," Tristan rationalized, though his mind was screaming the opposite.  
  
" Okay....I'm sorry I cried."  
  
He looked off in the distance momentarily, not wanting to remember.  
  
" No problem."  
  
" I swear it had nothing to do with the kiss," she tried to convince him.  
  
Laughing a light, somewhat-bitter laugh, he licked his lips again and looked at his shoes.  
  
" I kiss you, you cried - that had to have something to do with the kiss."  
  
" No! I cried because I was confused -- because I hadn't cried. I didn't cry because of the kiss. It was a nice kiss."  
  
Tristan's mouth almost dropped open at her admittance.  
  
" Yeah," he clarified.  
  
" Very nice - not at all crying material," she said with the utmost sincerity.  
  
" Really?"  
  
" Absolutely."  
  
He moved a few steps closer, his hands shoved down in his pockets and that insufferable sexy grin on his handsome face. Rory found that being in close proximity with Tristan was a bad idea - completely detrimental to the health and all, y'know?  
  
" Wanna try it again?"  
  
She almost choked on her breath after his direct questioning and quite obviously faltered in her quick response reflex.  
  
" Um - I don't think that would be a good idea."  
  
His grin increased in its sexiness and he got closer still.  
  
" And why is that," he asked, loving to see her squirm.  
  
" Because ... I mean we already established that our first kiss was a mistake, so why would we try it again - right," she inquired of him more than herself - she already knew she wanted to do it.  
  
" I don't remember saying it was a mistake, Rory."  
  
The way he said her name sent visible chills down her spine, only increased by the way his fingertips felt their way across her cheek, brushing away an errant strand of hair and hooking it behind her reddening ear.  
  
Yes, he was definitely leaning in - leaning ... leaning some more ... and a little more ...  
  
When his lips touched hers, she felt like she was going to faint; there shouldn't be so much electricity in one kiss, it's just too dangerous. Cautiously, Tristan brought his other hand out of his pocket and cradled Rory's neck so as to get the best angle to deepen the kiss; he nipped at her lip then swept his tongue across her mouth, physically asking for entrance, and no one was more surprised than him when she gave it to him.  
  
Her stomach tightened, and she let out a willing yet fully innocent sigh, placing her hands around his slender yet muscled waist. She was certain that his kissing technique was just that - a refined skill, something he'd perfected over time and used on an endless amount of girls. But she didn't care; he was kissing her right now, and it was positively amazing.  
  
Desperate for air, they broke apart but remained in each others' hold, their foreheads pressed together. So this was the feeling someone had when they said they'd die happy.  
  
* * * * * *  
  
Well that's all! I hope my work was satisfactory and that you guys enjoyed it, because I enjoyed writing it -- I guess I would since It took me a few days, right? Anyways, have a good one, and please R&R!  
  
Speaking of which, thank you so much to all the reviewers:  
  
tearose, Zoey, Muisje, klm111a, klara, Tristanlover59, Intuition, LittleAngelInLove, piper-h-99, Trory4ever, Surya, LizDarcy, Orangefish018, bibleboymary4ever, Julianne, Bridget, colleen, LandonLover, Amber and Alece  
  
You guys are so awesome! Thanx for the support, and keep reading!  
  
(P.S. -- This is a re-post, 'cuz I was rushing to get my update online while I was at school. So for those who have reviewed since then -- Surya and arina -- I am not forgetting you! And I changed the chapter last minute too. Okay, bye now!) 


	3. AUTHOR'S NOTE

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**  
  
Hey everybody!!! I just wanted all of you to know that "A Kiss Is Still A Kiss" is far from over! I am in the process of writing the next few chapters, and I'm using my school's comp for the most part, 'cuz mine is in repairs. So don't give up on me, I'm not being a slacker, I'm just having technical difficulties of the Third Kind, that's all.  
  
Anyway, since I'm here, I just wanted to thank all the reviewers (Intuition, Trory4ever [Michelle, you rock sweetie!], klara, csk8-20, jessiebite, emma, Alece, flossie, piper-h-99, Amber, BTVSGoddess, rach, LizDarcy, soccasabi and Stargirl) - you guys are so awesome, I can't even begin to describe the awesomeness! Stay tuned, 'cuz things are gonna get a whole lot more interesting ... I hope ... Okay, I love you, BUH-BYE! (I know it's old, but I still like to say it sometimes because I'm a dork.) 


	4. Keep Your Distance

DISCLAIMER: The way I figure, if I keep mentioning it, it'll get old. Old things are boring. So why don't I just not bother and leave the rest up to your excellent deductive reasoning skills. Sound good? Fantastic.  
  
A/N: No, I am not dead! I don't have constant access to a comp as I said in my Author's note before this one (see Ch.3). So, I do what I can with what I have, and I hope you all enjoy! R&R!  
  
* * * * * *  
  
A Kiss Is Still A Kiss  
  
PART III: Keep Your Distance  
  
Her lips were parted slightly from her formerly-ragged breathing, her wide- blue eyes still closed, and her forehead seeming to be creased as if to entail she was thinking about something - yes, she was too cute for words, but then that was already common knowledge by now.  
  
Not being able to resist, a grin of satisfaction spread across Tristan's face as his fingertips ran down the side of her neck and over her shoulder, his thumb hooking under the short-sleeve of her shirt.  
  
" What are you cheesing off about," she asked, her voice a little shaky, but he decided not to tease her about it.  
  
" And just how do you know I'm 'cheesing off', you're not even looking."  
  
Rory became slightly distracted with Tristan's other hand clinging to the opposite side of her neck while his other thumb caressed her cheek, but she figured quick responses were best at this time.  
  
" Don't have to - I can hear it."  
  
Her eyes were now open, this only making him smile more.  
  
" Okay, I'll make a mental note to grin quieter," he joked.  
  
She reciprocated the smile and glanced down at the hem of his "manly white tank top" that she'd been toying with.  
  
" Well, so much for resolving the issue..."  
  
" Yeah, well, unresolved ones are more fun - besides, this way I get to kiss you again."  
  
Rory rolled her eyes, jabbing him in the stomach. She had to admit, though, that was a definite perk. Then there was a pause.  
  
" Tristan..."  
  
" Uh oh."  
  
" I didn't say anything yet."  
  
" Yes, but you don't have to - I know that tone of voice very well."  
  
" And what tone is that," she asked for the sake of asking.  
  
" It's the 'You're great and all, but I just wanna be friends' tone ... don't try to hide it, it's written all over your face," he told her.  
  
" Geez, my face must be really crowded - well, you figured me out, I confess, that's exactly what I was going to say."  
  
He quirked an eyebrow, his arms draped around hers with his hands locked behind her back, resting above her rear.  
  
" Ah, sarcasm my old friend, nice of you to join us."  
  
She scowled playfully, wondering why on earth they were still holding onto each other, or better yet, why she was still holding on to him.  
  
" Seriously though, I don't see us as being friends," Tristan confessed, somewhat throwing her off.  
  
" Oh I can't wait to hear this one ..."  
  
" Face it Rory - there's just too much sexual tension between us, it would end up being a overly-complicated friendship anyway; so why don't we just skip the pleasantries and go right to the foreplay. I mean honestly, we're wasting precious time here."  
  
" Is there no end to you innuendoes or am I hoping beyond hope?"  
  
" Do you even have to ask?"  
  
She would've loved to continue their regular running banter, but, due to their closeness, the room was getting to damned hot. So, like any smart girl, she made up an escape plan.  
  
" I have to go, my mom needs the car," she lied.  
  
" Smooth Gilmore, I almost believed you."  
  
" Well she does..."  
  
" Look, I know a ditching situation when I see one. I also know the minute you get home, Bag Boy'll be practically panting and scratching at the door - what d'you plan to do about that," he inquired.  
  
" Let him pant and scratch some more, then eventually let him in."  
  
" Figures."  
  
" I fully plan to get back with him, Tristan."  
  
His soft blue eyes took on a sadder quality at her words, and his gaze fell to the ground as he tightened his jaw.  
  
" I know," he conceded, his arms falling from around her.  
  
Rory almost whimpered at the loss of contact and felt like she had just kicked a newborn and was watching it scream in agony. She also had to remind herself that she was still holding onto his shirt and that she must let go of it. But this was becoming increasingly difficult with him running his hands through his hair and looking at her like that.  
  
Just let go - is that so hard? Release the fabric, Rory, release ... and I'm supposed to be saying something right now.  
  
" I mean ... don't you think I should?"  
  
He smiled at how her voice and words sounded the exact same as when she had called him on the phone and drastically altered his life. Tristan then proceeded to concoct a scheme.  
  
" Oh of course - because then, it only makes my plans for you that much more interesting."  
  
Her brow furrowed.  
  
" Your plans for me?"  
  
" Yes."  
  
Pausing ensues ...  
  
" Care to elaborate maybe?"  
  
" There'll be plenty of time for that."  
  
" Should I be afraid?"  
  
He began to draw closer so that he was once again hovering in her personal space and his mouth was just inches from the cradle of her neck  
  
" Very - just know that I dare you to try and resist me," he replied in a confident yet sexy manner, laving at her earlobe with his tongue before letting it pass lightly between his teeth.  
  
Needless to say, she almost fell over after that. Instead, he stepped back as if nothing had happened and walked toward the exit.  
  
" Well come along, Ror, your mom I'm sure will be needing that car soon."  
  
Rory blinked her way out of her daze and breezed past him hastily.  
  
Grinning to himself, Tristan decided this year at Chilton was going to be a lot of fun.  
  
* * * * * *  
  
Ahem - well? Was that okay? Too short, I know. I just wanted to update ASAP, so Part IV will be longer. Besides that, you know what to do!  
  
Also, thanks a bunch to all the reviewers:  
  
Surya, arina, mandie, Samantha, klm11a, LandonLover, Marie, jesslover17, babyblue700, Nikki, Intuition, Trory4ever (I love you Chelle, and I miss you!), klara, csk8-20, jessiebite, emma, Alece, flossie, piper-h-99, Amber, BTVSGoddess, rach, LizDarcy, soccasabi, Stargirl, and LitJunkie  
  
You guys' support speaks volumes, and I so appreciate it!  
  
I promise that I'll try to update sooner. I have Part IV all figured out, I just have to type it up - I might just write it out and then type later. Anyways, I won't bore you guys anymore. Ciao! 


	5. You Are Bold, Yes But Are You Daring?

DISCLAIMER: Nope, no belong to me. And I give full credit to the Doritos Company (Frito-Lay, I believe) for the title of this chapter.  
  
A/N: Hey you guys! Here I am again, for another installment! I wanted to thank you all for the awesome reviews you left me, and the great ideas too -- makes a girl feel good, y'know? Well, enough from me, read on and I hope you like it!  
  
* * * * * *  
  
A Kiss Is Still A Kiss  
  
PART IV: You Are Bold, Yes -- But Are You Daring?  
  
" Aww, that is so cute! My daughter has a stalker!"  
  
" I'm being hunted."  
  
" He has it out for you, huh?"  
  
" It's like he's the predator and I'm his helpless prey in some sick world where everyone lives a Discovery Channel life," Rory groaned, pulling her long brown hair up into a ponytail.  
  
" Yes well, that would be interesting ... having your every move documented and taped with some famous British narrator over-interpreting the situation and making it into a dramatic saga, oh wouldn't that be sweet," Lorelai teased.  
  
" Ha ha - alright, go ahead and mock me."  
  
" Now don't tell me that it doesn't invigorate you just the tiniest little bit to know that you're being pursued, and that you're wanted - maybe?"  
  
Rory just stared back at the minimal space between Lorelai's fingers with her dominant blue eyes.  
  
" Invigorated, no - nauseous, yes."  
  
" Hmm ... like, nauseous in an apprehensive, 'You give me the butterflies, you hot sexy fiend' way?"  
  
" How about in a 'I'd rather have a hole in my head and vomit at the sight of my own brains' way," Rory deadpanned while she proceeded to pull at her harassing navy tights.  
  
" Fine, it was worth a try ... Dean called," Lorelai informed.  
  
" So you've told me, like, 80 million times."  
  
" Perhaps I'm just waiting for you to actually do something about it, and then, and only then, will I stop bringing it up."  
  
Both Gilmores began making their way to the door and grabbed their respective coats and gear.  
  
" How about you just stop now, and then it will make the world a better place, for you and for me."  
  
" Sure you don't wanna sing that," Lorelai quipped.  
  
" No thanks, Michael Jackson isn't so high on my list of favorites."  
  
" Yeah, well, how about his new hairdo? Stunning, right?"  
  
" Oh make it stop."  
  
" No I'm serious - the afro is coming back!"  
  
" No more."  
  
" I'm thinking that's the next hair move for me - forget ringlets, forget waves, forget straightening irons, I want a BUSH!!!"  
  
" And out the door we go," Rory cut in, exiting the premises.  
  
Lorelai just gave her daughter a commiserating grin and followed behind.  
  
(A/N: I know that we are kind of in the beginnings of Gilmore Girls -- oh, first season perhaps, and that the Michael Jackson/afro-wearing thing is more of a recent development in his plethora of bad fashion choices, but I had to add it in because it's just too funny for words. Okay, read on.)  
  
* * * * * *  
  
Rory cautiously walked the halls of Chilton on high alert, stealth mode at maximum capacity - as ridiculous as she was sure she looked, she was not going to be the helpless gazelle pounced upon by the vigorous feline marauder and reduced to a bloody pulp, oh no ...  
  
Success! She made it to her locker, and no sign of her shadow. Speedily, she entered her combination, yanking the door open, and began to wrench out her needed text and materials. Presently, a medium-sized white cup with a strip of cardboard covering appeared before her face. She gasped in amazement and awe, but then in remorse when the cup disappeared. She was then forced to turn around and confront the offender.  
  
" Good morning Mary."  
  
Rory was motionless, like a deer in the headlights, or like a gazelle waiting to be attacked - ironic, yes? But she would not be intimidated. Gilmores were never intimidated. Ever.  
  
" Good morning," she replied evenly with a look of 'You don't scare me', then reached for the cup.  
  
It was swiftly removed from her grasp and suspended stories above her normal height - damn Tristan and his long arms.  
  
" Now how much coffee have you had this morning?"  
  
" That's irrelevant," she retorted, not stopping in her activity of trying to retrieve her life-blood from the clenches of the Devil.  
  
" Maybe I shouldn't have gotten you more coffee, I mean look what it's done to you already," he reasoned smugly.  
  
Her struggle producing no fruit, she caught her breath and glared, arms defiantly folded across her chest.  
  
" You're a mean, mean person; you probably kick little innocent puppies, or purposely make messes for your maids to clean up, or run through the grocery store, knocking things off the shelves, I bet you even steal food from the bulk section."  
  
All she got in return was a lazy grin and Tristan's bedroom eyes.  
  
" No need to get belligerent, my dear. I have every intention of giving it to you."  
  
She waited patiently, but nothing came.  
  
" Well," she demanded with heightened irritation.  
  
" I never said I was talking about the coffee," he drawled, inching closer.  
  
It was then that her face began to turn numerous shades of red and her shyness factor increased to infinity. Enjoying her uneasy state, but not wanting to spoil all the surprises, he merely smirked wider, chuckling to himself.  
  
" Okay - you may have the beverage in question, but only at a fair price."  
  
" That's supposed to make me feel better?"  
  
" All I'm asking for is a kiss, Rory."  
  
Her eyes momentarily widened.  
  
" Tristan, I'm not giving you a kiss," she refused.  
  
" Come come now, I never said where."  
  
" Now I'm definitely not giving you a kiss."  
  
Tristan laughed again, never having had so much fun his entire life.  
  
" It'll be over soon, I promise."  
  
She eyed him, unsure, as he turned his cheek toward her ... kiss Tristan and get the coffee, don't kiss Tristan and save herself from temptation ... choices, choices. In the end, Rory decided to lean in and go for it - this was coffee, after all, the one thirst-quencher worth risking your life for.  
  
It all got changed after that, because Tristan had other plans ... plans that included turning his face at the last minute and claiming her mouth with his. She was caught off guard and moaned in protest but made no efforts to sever the connection or harm him in any way, and the kiss continued. Neither of them really knew how long it lasted, too busy concentrating on each other and the current of sparks that ran between their amalgamated lips. Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end -- besides, spectators and romantic moments don't mix very well, so it was Tristan who stopped the kiss, clearing his throat and straightening up his posture.  
  
" That was unexpected," he confessed.  
  
Rory opened her eyes and tried desperately to recapture her sang-froid but failed in the end, so she settled for her routine indifference.  
  
" Was not -- you probably planned for that to happen."  
  
**Oh my dear sweet Rory - if you only knew ...**  
  
" Oh that's laughable at best, but almost not true."  
  
" You couldn't be more obvious."  
  
" A good poker player never shows their hand, Rory."  
  
" Is that what this is to you -- a game?"  
  
He almost winced at his choice of words, pressed to find a comeback and fast.  
  
" Hardly; I have every intention of making you mine forever and always, but you seem to have this stubbornness problem, so, what's a guy to do?"  
  
" Give up and admit defeat," she suggested in a commanding tone, not able to keep the grin from her countenance.  
  
" Now where's the fun in that - have I taught you nothing?"  
  
" Do you really want me to answer that?"  
  
" No, not really - well, I have to get to class," he side-tracked, checking the non-existent watch on his wrist.  
  
" Please do."  
  
" And as promised, here is your coffee - try not to miss me, will you darling?"  
  
" I'll try," she returned, commiseration heavy in her voice.  
  
Then Tristan did his seductive leaning-in thing, and she held her breath.  
  
" Have a nice day Rory," he whispered in her ear, the side of his face brushing hers and sending chills down her spine.  
  
She was forced to face his retreating back until he rounded the corner to Chemistry and subsequently she had to wonder what it was about him that put this spell on her and turned her into a wordless invalid - wordless and Rory Gilmore don't go together in the same sentence.  
  
" What was that," a harsh voice hissed from behind her.  
  
Rory didn't have to turn around to know who spoke.  
  
" What was what, Paris," she asked in an overly-cheerful tone, facing her opponent but sometimes-friend.  
  
" I know you're not as mindless as you look right now, so why don't we just drop the charade - what's going on with you and Tristan?"  
  
" Nothing's going on," Rory defended, having shouldered her backpack and started down the hall to first period.  
  
Naturally, Paris followed.  
  
" Do you take me for a fool, Rory?"  
  
" I wouldn't dare."  
  
" It certainly didn't look like nothing."  
  
" Maybe you need glasses."  
  
" How convenient for you."  
  
" You know, I'm really not in the mood today Paris, so if this conversation could be over in the next few seconds, that would be great, I'd really appreciate it," Rory uncharacteristically snapped.  
  
" I don't know, exactly, the nature of the hold you seem to have on him, but I fully plan to find out," Paris cautioned.  
  
" Well, good luck with that."  
  
(A/N: Borrowed that from "Rory's Birthday Parties" - hope you don't mind, Amy!)  
  
Rory soon rounded her own corner and left the source of her torment somewhere behind.  
  
* * * * * *  
  
The school day had almost come to a close, and Rory was wandering through the library, attempting to pass the time during her study hall.  
  
It came to her attention that she had not seen Tristan the entire day, whether to her enjoyment or to her dismay she was not sure. Leafing through a random piece of literature, she just felt like any minute, he was going to pop up and scare the living daylights out of her or bombard her with a surfeit of suggestive comments. And she would be right.  
  
" Did anyone ever tell you how exquisite your neck looks when your hair is up," Tristan said cooly, fixing her shirt collar and placing a few short kisses on the body part being discussed.  
  
Why was this library so stifling? Hadn't they heard of circulating air?  
  
She pushed down the heat rising from the very spot his lips had just left, bit down on her own, and pressed forward.  
  
" Note to self: wear hair down to school from now on," she mumbled to herself, but just loud enough for him to hear.  
  
" Ooo - and the assailment begins."  
  
His comfortable stance against the bookshelf entailed he wasn't leaving.  
  
" Do you never tire of leaning on things," Rory solicited in exasperation.  
  
His grin was insufferable.  
  
" Think about that question then get back to me."  
  
A roll of her crystal blue eyes generated the desired reaction  
  
" What are you doing in here exactly, besides to just torture me?"  
  
" Isn't that enough," he snarked.  
  
No response.  
  
" What do people in school libraries usually do?"  
  
" Don't tell me you actually read or I'll keel over in shock."  
  
" And it would be a sad, sad day in Hartford, I assure you."  
  
" So is that a yes?"  
  
" I wouldn't want to be the direct cause of your keeling over."  
  
" Too late."  
  
" You wound me, Mary," he said, clutching the Chilton emblem resting on his left pectoral.  
  
" These aren't all picture books, you know; there's no Car World, or Head Stuck Up My Ass Today, or Don't You Wish You Had My Privileged Life, and there are certainly no dirty magazines --- are you sure you can handle page after page of just words?"  
  
" First of all, watch the potty mouth, second, I do read - on occasion - when there aren't certain distractions around ..."  
  
Tristan was of course looking straight at her as he said this.  
  
" Are you entailing that I'm a distraction," she continued the banter, knowing full well from past experience where this conversation would lead.  
  
" Perhaps - not to say that's a bad thing."  
  
" Of course not; I'm sure you need distractions all the time because, without them, you start thinking and getting ideas, then chaos and mass destruction are never far behind - a very common tale."  
  
" My, aren't we witty today," he stated in an English accent.  
  
" Why thank you," she imitated cordially and pretended to read.  
  
Rory soon felt Tristan's strong arms wrap around her waist from behind her, and his mouth found its way back to the cradle of her neck -- she knew she was in for it. So rather than let on that he was having an effect on her, she delved into her everlasting wellspring of drollness to save her.  
  
" Not this again," she pretended to be disgusted.  
  
" I'm sorry, you're just too tempting," he reasoned between kisses.  
  
" Tristan, I have a boyfriend."  
  
This made him stop his current activity and look her in the eye.  
  
" No you don't."  
  
Okay, so he wasn't that stupid - big deal, right?  
  
" Well ... maybe not now, but I will soon."  
  
**Lame Gilmore, so lame**  
  
" So how can 'not now' be interpreted as having a boyfriend?"  
  
" You're making this more difficult than it has to be."  
  
" Hey don't blame me for your faulty logic."  
  
" You already know I want to get back with Dean."  
  
In spite of all the fun things he had in store for Rory, the words were still painful to hear. But a DuGrey never shows weakness.  
  
" I certainly hope so - scandal is my middle name after all," he saved face, putting on the patented charm and smirk.  
  
" You poor soul."  
  
" I'm sure I have your sympathies."  
  
Silence crept back into the convo, and Rory glanced around nervously, clasping the novel to her chest. The bell had rung minutes ago - she was desperate for a getaway.  
  
" I'm gonna miss the bus."  
  
" There you go again with that escape tactic - how does she do it?"  
  
" I really am this time - besides, I need to get home, 'cuz Mom probably left the coffeemaker on, and she'll burn the whole place down, it'll be a big mess."  
  
" Maybe that whole 'giving you a ride home' idea is pretty debatable now, huh?"  
  
" Probably."  
  
Tristan's smirk transitioned to a smile as he dug one hand into his pocket.  
  
" So I guess this is goodbye then ... for now."  
  
" Yes, for now," she agreed, returning the smile.  
  
Lucky for her she still holding that novel, or else her arms would truly look limp. She fully expected him to do something evocative, to the point that she felt something was amiss if he didn't. He didn't disappoint, naturally, brushing one of those errant strands from her face and placing a small but highly satisfactory kiss on her lips. With one last stroke of her cheek, he was gone.  
  
* * * * * *  
  
Hey there hi there ho there! So tell me - was it sap? Like, from a tree? I know it's a little premature for things to be getting so fluffy, but I couldn't resist. Do let me know of your thoughts by pressing that little square button at the bottom left of the window, thank you so much.  
  
Another thank you to the reviewers:  
  
samantha: thanks, and I plan to!  
  
Surya: I liked that line too, so feel free! And "The More Things Change" is getting so juicy! You are awesome!  
  
BTVSGoddess: Yes, Rory is lucky, and the plans are only getting better!  
  
darasun: Honored, as always, and great minds must think alike, 'cuz that's almost exactly what I had planned for our favorite little couple, so thanks!  
  
Elise: I hope this was soon enough! You rock!(  
  
Alece: I'm sorry babe, but she is gonna get back with Dean - only for plot- thickening purposes, though. There will be Troriness in the near future!  
  
Orangefish018: You got me all figured out girl! I hope your brilliant predictions don't spoil the surprise!  
  
coincidence casualty: thanks for hopping aboard and reading! More support = happy trory-goddess!  
  
Tristanlover59: I'm glad you liked it sweetie!  
  
piper-h-99: I UPDATED!!!  
  
jessiebite: thank you for the encouragement hun, it means so much, really!  
  
jesslover17: What's this? Something about you loving it...ha ha, j/k! Thanks chica!  
  
Amber: Glad you liked it as well!  
  
swimminsweetie: Ditto! You're a trooper, babe!  
  
LizDarcy: Yes, giggling is good! And there is plenty of seduction on the way!  
  
ZoeLuv80: I hope you liked the beginnings of what Tristan has in store for Rory!  
  
LandonLover: Yes, they should hook up immediately, banter is required, and so is sexual tension - you hit the three corners!  
  
Jamie Witter: This is an honor as well, so thank you!  
  
Deeta: I hope you keep on loving it!  
  
Phew! That was the first shout out to the reviewers I've ever done! I hope it was adequate because I might not be doing it too often! Exhausting, you'd assess. Alrighty, be seein' you soon! R&R!!! 


	6. Well Someone Had Their Wheaties Today

DISCLAIMER: Ahem, no.  
  
A/N: You readers are so incredibly awesome! I can't believe how good you are at reviewing and telling me what you think, but still being encouraging at the same time. It makes me feel so good, really, and I just want you all to keep up the good work, 'cuz you rock!  
  
* * * * * *  
  
A Kiss Is Still A Kiss  
  
PART V: Well Someone Had Their Wheaties Today  
  
What in Sam Hill was going on? She let him kiss her! In fact, she invited the kiss, practically begging for it. Rory doesn't beg unless there is coffee involved, and she certainly didn't beg Tristan, of all people. Did the madness never end?  
  
Rory pondered over that question after school while sitting on the couch and pretending to do her homework. She knew she couldn't focus, but she figured she'd better try, because soon she was going to drive herself insane. This whole 'overly-seductive-Tristan' ordeal was beginning to bug her -- not because of the ordeal, but because of how she was responding to it. One look, one smirk, one kiss from Mr. Sexy Pants and her quip reserve was on empty. She had to think of something to do or else there would be no turning back, and Tristan very well might get his way after all.  
  
But alas, there would be no more deliberating, for it was prevented by a ringing of the doorbell. Setting aside her books, she made her way to the door and opened it.  
  
" Too busy to call your best friend are you, especially when she's so desperate she'd murder for a breath of fresh air?!"  
  
Rory merely smiled at the animated Korean girl before her and stepped aside to let her in.  
  
" Hi Lane."  
  
" You are seriously going to have to reevaluate your priorities, Rory, because slacking is prohibited. God, my mom has been driving me up the wall with bible studies and memory verses and worship tapes -- did you know they make sermons on CD now as well," Lane prattled on, making her way into the living room.  
  
" I was not aware of that fact," Rory admitted.  
  
" Yes well, it isn't enough we have to listen to them at home all day long, but she plays them in the car too. A nightmare would be some sort of cruel euphemism for my life, honestly."  
  
When Rory didn't respond with some sort of sharp witticism, Lane gave her the once over, plopping down on the couch.  
  
" Man you're slow today, have you had enough coffee?"  
  
" I'm just a little tired."  
  
" Oh that's exactly the word I was looking for, how about half-dead?"  
  
Rory gazed wearily at nothing and heaved a sigh.  
  
" Alright what's wrong," Lane asked finally.  
  
" Am I an easy target?"  
  
" For what exactly?"  
  
" Guys?"  
  
Lane stared at Rory in an uneasy fashion and proceeded to answer.  
  
" Just guys in general," she clarified.  
  
" Yeah."  
  
Silence and pausing ...  
  
" Well, what guys do you want to target you, is the real question here Rory."  
  
" Do I have to want someone to target me?"  
  
" Yes, or else you wouldn't be asking."  
  
Rory stopped talking to think about what she was really asking Lane to begin with.  
  
" I guess I'm trying to make sense of this whole thing with Tristan -- you know, with the flirting, and the kissing, and the touching -- and the flirting and the kissing and the more touching, I'm telling you, it's a cycle."  
  
" Do you like it?"  
  
Did she like it? That was an inquiry she had yet to address, and she honestly had to ponder seriously her contribution to the fiasco.  
  
" No! I mean -- yeah ... kinda, not really, but ... yes, I'm not sure."  
  
" Please don't be so decisive," Lane quipped dryly.  
  
" I sound confused because he makes me confused," she reasoned.  
  
" So make him confused back."  
  
" Huh?"  
  
" He confuses you and makes you question everything, so, to put it in cliché terms, give him a taste of his own medicine -- that way, you'll know whether or not he's playing with you or he actually wants you like he says he does -- it's full-proof, I guarantee it."  
  
" No you don't understand -- you don't surprise Tristan, you don't play with Tristan, it just doesn't happen. He's got this radar thing, I swear he can smell fear and he lives off of it."  
  
" Maybe he smells something else -- like intrigue," Lane proposed.  
  
" From who? You can't mean me," Rory retorted.  
  
" What have you really done to stop the situation from accelerating? A 'no' here, a 'stop it' there -- to a guy, that's as good as a direct invitation."  
  
" So what're you saying? I should just pour more grease on the grease fire in hopes of it going out? You'd make a terrible fireman, you know."  
  
" We're not talking about fire safety, we're talking about you taking control -- all I'm saying is tease him a little, see where it goes, it could work if you go about it the right way," Lane advised wisely.  
  
Before Rory could contemplate the validity of her best friend's words, there was another ring at the doorbell. Rolling her eyes at the interruption, she stalked over and flung the door open for the second time that day.  
  
" Hi," the other voice said in greeting.  
  
" Dean."  
  
" I called you last night," he informed her, wondering if she was going to let him in.  
  
" Yeah - my mom told me."  
  
Dean nodded and expected a reply, but he received none. Rory was in a daze - how long had it been since she had seen his face? Too long, she gathered, by how much she was staring and long it was taking her to respond.  
  
" Rory? You okay?"  
  
" I'm fine - do you wanna come in?"  
  
" Uh, sure."  
  
She opened the door wider so his unusually tall frame could fit through and shut it behind him.  
  
Lane just stood there, looking between the two of them.  
  
" I think I should go - Momma might reinstate the whole tracking device thing if I'm out too long."  
  
" We wouldn't want that," Rory conceded, grinning.  
  
" Yeah - I'll talk to you later - bye Dean," Lane said over her shoulder and quickly exited the premises.  
  
Now it was just the two of them. Dean decided to be the first to break the silence.  
  
" So ... how have you been?"  
  
His voice alarmed her, it having previously been so quiet.  
  
" Okay."  
  
" I really miss you, Rory."  
  
**Man, he doesn't beat around the bush, does he?**  
  
" I miss you too."  
  
" So what does that mean," he asked nervously.  
  
" I'm not really sure, actually."  
  
* * * * * *  
  
" I said no, why do you insist on begging, why does she insist on begging?"  
  
Sookie shrugged, knowing not to get in the middle of Luke and Lorelai's secretly flirtatious bouts over coffee.  
  
" I've gave up trying to figure that one out," she explained.  
  
" Maybe because I'm praying one day the frigid coating over your pea- sized heart will melt and you'll finally give in to my every demand."  
  
Not liking the evil gleam in her eye and having been over this with Lorelai numerous times, Luke just decided to ignore her.  
  
" So what were you saying about the loser who's chasing after Rory," he changed the subject.  
  
" Oh well, what else can be said? He is single-handedly trying to win over Rory's heart by going over the top with displays of affection, all the while disregarding her pleas to the contrary."  
  
" He sounds like a jerk," Luke concluded with his constant blandness.  
  
" You don't think it's the least bit adorable that my daughter has someone hopelessly chasing after her," Lorelai inquired, her eyebrows quirked and a smile on her face.  
  
" I think it's sad and I feel bad for the both of them."  
  
" What does this Tristan look like, he sounds awful mysterious and handsome," Sookie contributed to the conversation.  
  
" Well I haven't actually seen him myself, but Rory says he's boy- band material."  
  
Sookie's eyes widened at the prospect.  
  
" Ooo, that sounds fantastic, is she going to be bringing him home any time soon? When do we get to meet him? Can I bring food, let's make an event out of it, maybe a picnic or something, I'll start making arrangements!"  
  
" Now hold on a second sister, I don't think Tristan is the 'bring him home to Momma' type - he sounds like the 'don't ever in a million years tell Momma you're even dating him' type," Lorelai corrected.  
  
" That's because that's exactly what he is, you see, guys like him - they weasel their way into the hearts of innocent young teenage girls, promising them the world in all its glory, then end up leaving them pregnant and alone with an endless string of sexually transmitted diseases, it's more than a common story, it's fact."  
  
Both Lorelai and Sookie stared at Luke blankly.  
  
" Has one of these men broken your heart too, Lukey?"  
  
He rolled his eyes at Lorelai's teasing, heading to the kitchen.  
  
" Why do I even bother," he mumbled to himself.  
  
" Hey while you're back there, see if you can find the nice guy who usually gives me coffee when I ask for it," she called after him.  
  
" One of these days he's gonna crack, y'know," Sookie warned.  
  
" Oh I'm counting on it - that way, I can have all the Luke's coffee I want with out any obstacles or hindrances."  
  
" But what's Luke's coffee without a Luke to give it to you, then it's just coffee."  
  
Lorelai gasped in horror.  
  
" What sort of demonic speech is this? It's never 'just coffee', I demand you recant your sacrilegious abominations and, when we get home, swear on Mr. Coffee that you will never utter such words for as long as you shall live - which may end up being a lot shorter should you blaspheme against the sacred name of coffee ever again!"  
  
" Wow, that time I thought a blood vessel might pop, you're getting a lot better with the guilt!"  
  
" Really? Was it believable? I really tried to dig deep with the unholiness and all that ..."  
  
" Luke won't know what to do with himself."  
  
A satisfied smile spread across her face.  
  
" But seriously, you're okay with this Tristan/Rory thing?"  
  
Lorelai pondered briefly and nodded.  
  
" Of course I can't be totally certain how pure his intentions really are, but I do believe that Rory has a habit of attracting really nice guys -- even if they do break her heart and dump her on anniversary dates, that's not really not what I was trying to say. What I was trying to say was I trust Rory's judgment more than I fear his resolve to seduce her."  
  
" Yeah I see your point. Never in all my days did I see a girl with more prudence than our Rory, she's -- she's a sharp one," Sookie agreed.  
  
" The sharpest, and guess who she gets it from?"  
  
" Chris?"  
  
" Uh, no."  
  
" Your parents, it's gotta be one of them -- no, don't tell me, I bet it's your mom, she's so smart it's scary."  
  
" Y'know, you're really making it obvious you're trying to think of a lot of other less-than-qualified individuals and you don't wanna say me, so, I suggest you give it up."  
  
" Ah well, effort is 90% of the battle."  
  
" At least you admit defeat."  
  
* * * * * *  
  
Rory stewed over her and Dean's conversation the previous afternoon as she unloaded her book bag into the locker the next morning. They had acknowledged their feelings for each other and agreed that being apart would only create distance between them instead of bringing them closer, yet no real step toward reestablishing a relationship had been made. So where did that leave her? What did she really want?  
  
At first, the only answer to that question would have been Dean. But Tristan and his slightly changed behavior had brought a new facet to her emotional life that she wasn't sure she could handle. Life, she was sure, was not supposed to be this complicated.  
  
The sight of Paris flouncing down the hallway only increased her anxiety.  
  
" You and Tristan are going out now right?"  
  
" No."  
  
" So what, was this some sort of desperate ploy you concocted just to spite me?!"  
  
" You really think I'm that underhanded," Rory countered.  
  
" I don't have to think, the facts speak for themselves!"  
  
" Paris ..."  
  
" Oh that's just the tip of the iceberg, the real kicker is you thought you could lie to me about it," Paris spued, her eyes brimming with contempt.  
  
" Paris, we're friends -- or at least I thought we were - why would I lie about something like this?"  
  
" Correction, we aren't friends, we never were friends and why wouldn't you? 'Forget Paris the loser (A/N: From "The Third Lorelai"), I've known all along Tristan wants me, so why don't I just turn a blind eye to her feelings for him and move in for the kill', it was just that easy, wasn't it?!"  
  
" The real question here, Paris, is why you automatically assume the worst about me! I've tried, oh God knows I've tried, to be your friend and you always give me a hard time about everything, why?!"  
  
" Because by some detestable act of ill-fated favor, all that I once could have indirectly called my own before the beginning of this year has been stolen from me and passed on to you and I hate it!!!"  
  
Not able to offer any sort of consolation or reaction, Rory just watched Paris storm down the hallway, knocking over everything in her path.  
  
What had happened to destroy the borderline friendship between them? It certainly wasn't her doing, no ... a certain blonde-haired Chiltonite came to mind as the perfect match for a culprit. Surprisingly, she had not seen him yet that morning and could've called herself looking for him, expecting him even, until now. Now, she was going to make him pay - she just wasn't sure how that could be successfully accomplished. There was no time to think now, she had to find him and make him pay. So, she threw her backpack down on the ground and headed off.  
  
Cutting through the endless stream of students, her long brown hair flying behind her, she spotted the offender leaning (what a shock) against a row of lockers, talking to his friends - an innocuous act on the surface, but she knew what was beneath ... some not-so-innocuous acts to counter it. Stalking up to the group, she halted and crossed her arms cantankerously across her chest.  
  
Tristan, feeling the gust of wind her fast pace had brought with her, looked over and acknowledged her presence.  
  
Enter the charming smile.  
  
" Rory."  
  
Why was she there again? No, resolve must be maintained, stay strong and focus.  
  
" We need to talk."  
  
" Oka -"  
  
Before he could finish what he was going to say, his arm was yanked and he was already being dragged to God-knows-where with a bunch of confused faces staring back at him.  
  
Tristan almost couldn't keep up with her fiery gait and tripped over himself quite frequently while making efforts.  
  
" What has gotten into you," he managed to ask, but to no avail, because she would hear none of it.  
  
Soon, they reached a more secluded hallway, where Rory proceeded to push him against a new row of lockers in a very forceful manner and glower at him in disdain.  
  
He winced at the impact but immediately recovered, encouraged by the blazing inferno in her wide blue eyes.  
  
" Well someone had their Wheaties today."  
  
" Shut up."  
  
Her venomous words caused his expression to flatten in fear.  
  
" You know, you're unbelievable. You single-handedly ruin one of the only pending friendships I have in this God-forsaken place, and then you suggest all sorts of redolent things about me that're supposed to somehow change my perspective on you - how do you manage it? I mean, how can you honestly live with yourself? Well?! Come on! Speak up!"  
  
After gawking at her unhinged anger, Tristan tried to ease the tension by laughing uneasily.  
  
" Rory I ..."  
  
" Oh shut up, I didn't ask you to talk! It amazes me that someone so full of themselves could even pay attention to anything else besides pruning and primping their already-enormous ego, I'm surprised I can even breath around you with all the space it's taking up! Isn't it heavy?! Doesn't it weigh you down?! Doesn't' it?!"  
  
" Rory!"  
  
" Shut up! That's great, wonderful, my mouth opens, so you mindlessly assume I want you to say something when I'm done! Guess you didn't get the little memo that says the world doesn't revolve around Tristan, now did you?! That is it! I've had enough!"  
  
To say she had baffled him before would be of no comparison to this situation right now.  
  
" W-what did I do?!"  
  
" Didn't I just tell you to shut up?! But no, you don't wanna listen to anything except the sound of your own voice!"  
  
" I just want to know what the hell's going on," he told her frankly.  
  
" I'll tell you what the hell's going on!"  
  
He waited with all the patience he could muster but no words came. What he got instead was a heated stare from Rory - and he was almost positive that there was something else in the stare besides derision ... could it be .... No, that's impossible, Rory doesn't look at him like that. He was just seeing things, she wasn't looking at him like she - wanted to kiss him, no, that's absurd.  
  
Before he could get another thought in edgewise, she had already grabbed his face and was kissing him with more passion than he had ever deemed imaginable. He would've pulled away to get a better grasp on the circumstances and then kiss her with more confidence, but her tongue demanding access to his mouth prevented him from any sort of coherent activity.  
  
No! He had to make sense of this, he had to understand her intentions in the predicament, he couldn't be left in the dark. Clarity must be reached!  
  
" Wait, Rory stop."  
  
He never thought he would utter those words ever in his life.  
  
" What," she questioned in a lethargic state.  
  
" This is nice, really ..."  
  
" Nice?"  
  
" Okay, this is completely better than nice, but I seriously have to know what's going on with you."  
  
Her brow furrowed in bewilderment.  
  
" I thought this is what you wanted."  
  
" It is," he interjected a little too enthusiastically.  
  
" It is, I just -- I wanna know why you're doing this -- with me."  
  
" Because I want to ... and you're a good kisser .... and I'm taking my friend's advice."  
  
Now it was his turned to be perplexed -- did she just say ...?  
  
" Wait, what?"  
  
" Just kiss me and stop asking so many questions, you're ruining the moment."  
  
" Well when you put it that way ..."  
  
Tristan was then cut off from any further discussion by Rory's lips on his, and that moment ended up being just as good as the first, his arms winding tighter around her waist while one of her hands rested on his face and the other clung to the back of his neck.  
  
Then, the hands became more rampant, the kissing became more intense, and Rory became more aggressive, moving forward so his back was once more up against the locker and he would have no place to go -- not that he would go anywhere, but this was all about control, now wasn't it?  
  
Rory's body being pressed fervently to his was beginning to be a difficult task to handle, and since air was a necessity for humans, there was a mutual consensus that the kissing must be put on hiatus for the time being. Plus, the warning bell to begin 1st period had just rung. Tristan couldn't help himself, and the grin found its way back to his handsome visage.  
  
" Good Lord woman, I have no idea what you put in your coffee this morning -- but please put in there again tomorrow."  
  
" Must be the puppy chow," she mumbled, leaning her forehead on his and receiving an affectionate nuzzle in return.  
  
" I hope not, 'cuz that's beyond disgusting."  
  
They shared a laugh, and the there was quiet for a little while, save the distant bustling of school activity.  
  
" We should get to class," Rory reminded.  
  
" Now is that really necessary?"  
  
" It is if you want to do something with your life."  
  
" One absence doesn't make a noticeable difference, Mary."  
  
" See here, Mr. DuGrey, I will not have you traipsing around God knows where doing God knows what with God knows whom and wasting your precious Chilton education, it just won't happen."  
  
" And who am I to refuse such a pretty face?"  
  
" Smooth-talker -- too bad it's not getting you anywhere except to class," she hinted, slowly unraveling from the embrace and pulling him in the right direction.  
  
" Who would I be if I didn't at least try," he reasoned.  
  
" Well, someone with half a brain, of course."  
  
" That's the best you can do?"  
  
" Given the proper amount of recuperation time, I'm sure a satisfactory comeback could be made."  
  
" Recuperation, eh? Had you reeling pretty bad, didn't I?"  
  
She took notice of how their hands had remained joined up until this point and smiled at how her next words sounded in her head.  
  
" When I'm finished with you, you won't even remember what reeling is," she shot back indicatively, stepping in front of him to plant a solitary kiss on his unsuspecting mouth.  
  
" Why do I like the sound of that?"  
  
" Because you're a glutton for punishment -- by the way, I might be getting back with Dean tonight," Rory rushed out, releasing her grip and tearing down the hallway.  
  
The words still hurt, but they didn't seem to carry the same sting as before -- maybe it was how she said them.  
  
" You're a malicious woman, Mary -- this is far from over," he called after her desperately.  
  
Around the corner, Rory was dying of laughter and attempting to walk to class at the same time. She made a mental note to thank Lane for the tip.  
  
* * * * * *  
  
So? Okay, perhaps? I know, I've been gone a while, but I've been working super-duper hard on this chapter, so I hope you all like it. R&R, that's all I ask!!!  
  
Alrighty, it's shout-out time:  
  
Surya (my homeslice -- oh chica, how I love thee!), LandonLover, Tristanlover59, JuJuBean, I love you (though that's not really a name per say, but thanx for the review just the same!!), Mrs. Witter (I am in awe ... you rock!), flossie, swimminsweetie, jesika090, Sparkles, BTVSGoddess, Samantha, french05, Lauren, cool (also not a name, hehe!), piper-h-99, Amber, girl devil, ZoeLuv80, Me, SevereSweetie, klm111a, LizDarcy, tearose, Elise (an honor, I assure you), Stargirl, Little Miss Lena, katia, klara, KaylaW, ... (that's just dots, but it's a review, so, hey, no complaints!), baby doll_0101, jayce, Trory4ever (oh Chellie, much love!) and Nikki  
  
GEEZ!!! You guys are so awesome! I know I use that word a lot, but you are! I can't begin to describe! And there are so many review vets that have been with me since the beginning (even though my fic isn't that long) -- you know who you are, and thank you so much! Happy reading!!! 


	7. Pass The Flavorless Pork

DISCLAIMER: I own Chad Michael Murray and every square inch of his sexy, rock-hard swimmer body. There I said it. And I borrowed two things -- the scene where Rory & Lorelai are discussing Lorelai's obsession with seeing Emily uncomfortable in "The Third Lorelai" except I switched the roles, and then the pork-discussion scene in "8 O'clock At the Oasis" 'cuz it was priceless and I wanted it, hence the title of this chapter -- Thanks Ames!  
  
RATING: I'm gonna up it to R, just for this chapter though, and maybe others too , for safety reasons -- and also because I'm dirty and I like it that way.  
  
A/N: Well, I'm not dead, that's for sure. I was -- just -- being lazy and not writing, but we're not gonna focus on the bad, right? K, don't answer that.  
  
Anyway, hope you guys like the chappie-poo, and R&R, that is very important to me.  
  
BRIEF SHOUT-OUTS:  
  
Surya - my Beta, home girl, Muse of all muses, Marshmallow, partner-in- crime-and-misdemeanor-and-thievery-and-manslaughter-and-evils-of-all-kinds, and sharer of the Mantra...the love is there, it goes without saying, so receive it and SHUT UP!!! Hehe, kisses! This chapter is for you. And always bear in mind The Harem...  
  
All the chat room crew: James (Bumble-bee! Buzz buzz buzzz! Always remember "Black Afghan" and hate it with the fiery passion of a thousand suns -- and August 24th is the wedding date, for special reasons, so you get to wear the dress first!! MONEY!!); Naters (Sorry, no Paris this chapter, Love, but I'm sure you'll survive, I know you will. TTYS babe!); Sus (back off HO, he's MINE!!!), Melissa, Priya, Iris, the whole gang...I LOVE YOU LOVE YOU LOVE YOU!!!! Stay out of trouble now, 'cuz I know that I won't.  
  
Alright, read on.  
  
* * * * * *  
  
PART VI: Pass The Flavorless Pork  
  
Driving to school the next morning, Rory reasoned with herself yet again as she often did in quiet moments. It was just a little lie -- maybe in some alternate universe she was actually considering getting back with Dean, but Rory knew not to set herself up again for rejection. As much as she wanted to believe Dean was the one for her, it just wasn't going to happen. Perhaps the feelings were still there, perhaps she could learn to love Dean and all the problems they would ever have would be worked out because she almost loved him ... okay, wait, that just sounded too stupid for words.  
  
In all honesty, what kind of relationship is built on the foundation of potential love? .... Give up? .... THE KIND THAT IS DOOMED TO FAIL!!!! Yeah, I know, that was a hard one, gets 'em every time. The point is that she only told Tristan that she was getting back with Dean to stir things up. As far as she was concerned, two can play at the game he was playing, cliché or not. Besides, it was fun toying with a guy who thought with his crotch instead of his brain .... although, Rory was not entirely convinced that Tristan was as bigoted as he portrayed himself to be. In brief spurts, he let his true personality show, and she was almost positive that he was quite vulnerable. She should really concentrate on the road though-- it was, after all, 7:45 in the morning, and she'd only had three cups of coffee.  
  
After praising herself on her brilliant parking job, she waltzed into a new day with a hidden agenda -- conceivably even hidden from her.  
  
* * * * * *  
  
What was he doing in the library? It wasn't exactly the "coolest" place to hang out, and yet Tristan had found himself in the library quite often over the past few days as a pathetic attempt at maybe catching a glimpse of Rory, or maybe even a casual sparring of words. Hey, with his luck lately, he might even get a kiss -- or two -- or five. Speaking of which, he had no idea what he had gotten himself into when he'd assumed the position of Rory's follower. How could he have known she would have been so bold as to try and counter his every move? He was beginning to understand that her cunning must have been a ripe old piece of fruit straight from the Gilmore family tree, and he resolved to get a closer look at her life outside of Chilton, to see what made Rory the type of person that he found completely intoxicating.  
  
It was then that the subject of his current fantasies stepped into view and made her way to the table he was sitting at. She seemed to be quite overjoyed about something, and he suspected he wasn't going to like it.  
  
Glancing up, he saw her rocking back and forth on her heels with a Cheshire cat grin on her face. He quirked an eyebrow curiously then went back to his reading.  
  
*Ah, so he wants to play hard to get does he?* Rory mused.  
  
Still grinning, she slithered her way to the chair in front of his and sat down grandiosely so as to derive as much attention to herself as possible.  
  
Tristan looked up again when she began drumming her fingers against the table and staring at him unwaveringly with the same disgustingly-saccharine smile on her lovely face.  
  
" Hello," she greeted in all pleasantness, drawing out the 'o' for affect.  
  
" Hi," he returned, unsure of what was happening.  
  
After a brief pause, he noticed she wasn't making her purpose known, so he asked the question.  
  
" Why are you smiling like that?"  
  
" Like what, this is a perfectly normal smile."  
  
" Yeah, but -- okay, no...it's not leaving."  
  
" Why should it? Life is good."  
  
*I feel a big 'huh?' coming on* he cogitated inwardly.  
  
" Right," he said, unconvinced, and dropped his gaze down to his book once more.  
  
At this time, Rory decided being obnoxious was the only way to crack this nut. So, her drumming became incessant, and she began to whistle and tap her feet on the floor to a certain happy, up-beat and highly-annoying rhythm.  
  
Immediately, he slammed the textbook shut and dropped it on the table.  
  
" Okay Rory, please! First of all, are you feeling okay? Second, what in God's name are you doing?"  
  
" Why Mr. DuGrey -- whatever do you mean? Such an outburst in a school library, you should be ashamed."  
  
This made him chuckle, because now she was just being absurd.  
  
" This is fun ... really, but I would like to know what's going on, seeing as how lately I don't seem to have a clue."  
  
" You're acting like I have some grand scheme against you prefabricated in my head."  
  
" It wouldn't be the first time."  
  
" Now then ..."  
  
" Rory, I find it hard to believe you entered this facility for the sole purpose of talking to me, so why don't you tell me exactly why you're here," he somewhat demanded.  
  
" Just making pleasant conversation."  
  
" Yeah, well, why don't you go make 'pleasant conversation' with your boyfriend..."  
  
Though he had muttered that last comment to himself, she'd heard it, and now it was all beginning to make sense -- why he was on edge and desperately trying to ignore her -- he was jealous. An even-more-satisfied and Grinch-like grin came to her face at her new discovery.  
  
" My boyfriend? What boyfriend," she questioned innocently.  
  
" That's cute, Rory."  
  
" What?! I don't have a boyfriend."  
  
Tristan glanced up from his current activity of picking at the table to look her straight in the eye.  
  
" Okay, now you're just lying to me, so..."  
  
" Why would I lie? I said I don't have a boyfriend, and I don't," Rory insisted.  
  
Now he was just plain bemused.  
  
" But you said..."  
  
She rose from her seat abruptly, cutting him off.  
  
" Tristan, really -- you need to stop having these mental conversations with me in your head, it makes you look like a crazy person, and honestly, who wants to look like a crazy person, right?"  
  
His face cringed ... *Well, you obviously* he answered.  
  
" W--sorry?"  
  
" It's okay, I forgive you -- what are you doing tonight?"  
  
" Uh ... I dunno ...."  
  
" Come over for dinner."  
  
" What?"  
  
" To my grandparents' house, you remember my grandparents don't you?"  
  
" Rory, what is wrong with you -- really?"  
  
She laughed a sickening, psychotic laugh and flipped her hair over her shoulder with her fingertips. Tristan cringed yet again, which yielded a genuine, mocking laugh from Rory.  
  
" Tristan, why does something have to be wrong with me?" she asked between chuckles.  
  
He joined in the revelry, adding a couple guffaws of his own and shaking his head.  
  
" Okay, okay I get it -- you're making fun of me," he deducted, leaning back in his chair with his confident smirk.  
  
" Yes well, I do what I can, the opportunities are few and far between -- and it is kinda fun so, why stop?"  
  
" I couldn't agree more."  
  
They then shared a comical moment.  
  
" But seriously, I don't have a boyfriend, and I want you to come for dinner at my grandparents' house tonight."  
  
" You know, Rory, you're quite a conundrum, it's astonishing really, the things that pop out of your mouth..."  
  
" I couldn't be more humorless, Tristan, I assure you. Besides, you shouldn't use words you can't spell, you know what I told you about that."  
  
Since Rory's eyes were no longer radiating with crazed lunacy, he was inclined to actually believe her. But he had to ask the question.  
  
" Why?"  
  
" Why?! It's not every day a girl gets to show off her very own personal stalker for her family -- besides they'll love you."  
  
" Yeah, how drunk is your grandfather gonna have to be this time, really?"  
  
" Pretty drunk, but I'm rootin' for ya. And my mom's curious."  
  
" You've talked to your mom about me?"  
  
Oops. Slipped.  
  
" No," she recovered lamely, trying to furrow her brow and make it look like she was appalled.  
  
" Yes you have, you've been talking to your mom about me!"  
  
Rory then slapped her poorly-furrowed forehead and regretted her stupidity.  
  
" I knew you couldn't resist, Gilmore -- it was just a matter of time before you gave in to your more ... carnal instincts."  
  
" I'm a vegetarian."  
  
" Oh if only."  
  
" *Uh*, someone must have hit you with some pretty serious False Assurance at the mall, you should demand a refund."  
  
" And they told me it was the best male fragrance around -- bastards ...."  
  
" Hm, not everyone's a smart shopper -- so are you coming or not?"  
  
" Well that depends? How long can you go before you feel the need to talk about me again?"  
  
She rolled her eyes and turned to walk away.  
  
" Invitation withdrawn, I can see you and your ego have an entire evening planned already."  
  
Of course she didn't get very far before she felt Tristan's hands on her shoulders, almost themselves begging her to stop.  
  
" Rory Rory Rory, wait -- a gosh-darn second, you teased me so I get to tease you, it's only fair, there's a rule book or something, you know that."  
  
Her face entailed she wasn't going to put up with his taunting for very much longer.  
  
" I would love to have dinner with your family."  
  
Seeing her countenance relax, he began to feel her forehead as if to check for a temperature.  
  
" You're freakin' me out, Mary, I think you should go back on your medication, stat."  
  
Little did he know that his touch was doing nothing for the cure of her supposed fever. Wit was needed to help her recover, and fast.  
  
" Yes well, you know how that blasted pharmacy can be about giving out illegal narcotics -- damn Congress and their laws...."  
  
Tristan chuckled and followed Rory out of the library.  
  
* * * * * *  
  
" So this is your house?"  
  
Rory eyed Tristan's 'Master-of-the-obvious' statement and moved on.  
  
" Yep."  
  
Brief gaping silence ensues...  
  
" What was that," he asked.  
  
" What was what?"  
  
" That weird, awkward silence thing, where did it come from?"  
  
" I dunno, you started it."  
  
" No I didn't."  
  
" I don't think it was weird -- it's perfectly normal for there to be 'lapses' in conversation, it makes things more interesting," she reasoned, though once she turned things over in her head, she wasn't so sure it made sense.  
  
The look on Tristan's face confirmed it..  
  
" I see ... so not talking makes a conversation more -- interesting?"  
  
" Couldn't have said it better myself," she agreed, slapping her knee for emphasis.  
  
He grinned -- a surprisingly-sexy grin that she hadn't seen all day, and it made her uneasy -- in the most delicious way possible. Rory's uneasiness multiplied when he found cause to look at her with one of his smoldering gazes that made her knees go weak (thank the Lord she was sitting), and then he had the audacity to lick his lips and grin some more, this was intolerable.  
  
From his stand point, her bottom lip being drawn inside her mouth between her teeth made it very evident that he was going to do something to her if she didn't stop. A man's resolve is only so strong, and Tristan's resolve was 10 times that flimsy, so he didn't really have a choice. But -- he figured he'd ask.  
  
" So what happens now?"  
  
" Well...I go inside, and you go home, and then you come back again in a few hours to meet my loving family and eat food."  
  
" That's it?"  
  
" Hold back on the gratitude, please, it's too much."  
  
Enter Tristan's sexy chuckle.  
  
" I just meant is that all that's happening right now."  
  
" I don't have to guess that you had other things in mind."  
  
" What, don't I get -- something for taking you home?"  
  
" Something?"  
  
" Yeah."  
  
" Well sure, if you want us to have a horribly-misguided master/dog relationship where I give the commands and you obey without question, and then, when I'm satisfied, you get some sort of condolence."  
  
Tristan raised his eyebrows, and Rory could've sworn he got more attractive.  
  
" That sounded nebulously dissident, Ror -- there something about you I should know?"  
  
" What's with the big words Tristan? You're gonna hurt yourself. And yes -- there is something you should now ... I work the street corners of Hartford on the weekends with FiFi and Lola and Bambi, and the men just come calling -- my pimp, Angus, very possessive, but sweet in a burly drunk sort of way ... good money."  
  
" Conundrum."  
  
" Oh the makers of the SAT's would be so proud."  
  
" I'm gonna kiss you now."  
  
Rory choked on her laugh, but disguised it as a clearing of her throat and swallowed. Then her eyes got rounder...  
  
" Okay."  
  
He started leaning even before she was able to process what was going on, so by now, he was inches from her face. Seeing as how the armrest wasn't making his position any more comfortable, Rory decided to oblige and move closer, accidentally brushing his lips with hers. She immediately drew her bottom lip back into captivity at the shock she felt from the featherlike touch. Tristan leaned closer still, flicking his tongue along her mouth and seemingly begging for the lower region's release; it was never really released though, since he immediately dragged it between his own teeth ever so lightly.  
  
Her whimper, intended to be sexy, came out as a quiet but hoarse and raspy squeak, since her throat had gone dry seconds ago. Tristan loved how it became muffled when his tongue passionately filled her mouth, and loved it even more when she reciprocated, snaking her hand around his neck and clinging to his hair. This gave him proxy to slide his free arm around her waist as resourcefully as possible, then move his hand down over her skirt and inside the welcoming little slit that her current posture provided.  
  
Even as his lips traced down her jaw line and into the crook of her neck and his fingertips caressed the soft flesh of her inner thigh, she didn't slap him or knee him where it counts (though that would've proven difficult). He could almost call her -- asking to go further. He felt her hips jolt slightly when his digits grazed that certain part of her panties, sending a very visible chill through her body; he pressed harder just to see her do it again, and this time she hummed in response. He dared to do it a third time, her forehead, furrowed with intensity, leaning against his...  
  
Rory was on fire, it was as simple as that. Every spot that his mouth left behind became a scorching inferno, and she feared him being a human incinerator was more hazardous than she'd guessed. It soon became apparent that she wasn't giving him license to stop either -- she hadn't said a damn word, just moaned like an invalid and drew closer, to get as much of him and what he was administering as possible. But she couldn't help but wonder if this was all wrong.  
  
And then it stopped .....  
  
To say she yelped would be an understatement, and she opened her eyes to see what had went awry.  
  
" Rory -- Rory we can't do this."  
  
Silence. Rory gave a blue doe-eyed look, chewing on her top and bottom lips alternately, further displaying her innocence. He couldn't help but smile.  
  
" I mean, not here, like this. This -- is...desperate, and one-night- stand-ish, and uncomfortable, and you are so much better than that."  
  
As upset as she was for the pleasantries to be ending, she had to admit she definitely wasn't about losing it in the back seat of someone's car RIGHT IN FRONT OF HER HOUSE. Hell, she couldn't believe she had considered -- oh gosh, his eyes are so beautiful, and his blessed hand is touching my face -- was considering losing her virginity to Tristan DuGrey. There needed to be some serious thought on this matter. Now it was just registering that he had said one of the sweetest things to her she had ever heard in her life. He did care about her. Smile and look shy, Gilmore.  
  
Tristan reasoned one more kiss couldn't harm the situation, and so he acted. Rory responded. The kiss ended, and he mustered all the strength within him to draw back, not too much though, still leaning on the armrest and somewhat invading personal space.  
  
" What time should I be here?"  
  
Staring, staring, staring -- OH! He's asking a question.  
  
" Tonight?"  
  
" Yes tonight."  
  
Stop grinning like that, Tristan, just stop it right now.  
  
" Seven."  
  
" Okay."  
  
" 'Cuz we have to be there by eight."  
  
" Okay."  
  
" Okay."  
  
Pause.  
  
" I mean, it only takes a half-hour to get there, but she's very particular about timeliness, and we really shouldn't be late, so that's why I said be there an hour early -- I mean, here, an hour early. Yeah. Seven."  
  
" Okay," he said, grinning wider.  
  
" So I'll see you then?"  
  
" Yeah."  
  
" Good."  
  
" Good."  
  
" Okay ... bye Tristan."  
  
" Bye Rory."  
  
With that, she grabbed her stuff, gave one last look his way, and opened the car door to step out. She didn't anticipate, however, toppling to the ground because her knees gave out.  
  
OOF!  
  
Guess she hadn't recovered after all.  
  
Tristan winced at the loud sound her falling body made and tried not to laugh. So he figured he'd help her up.  
  
" Geez Ror, are you okay?"  
  
His attempts to not laugh were failing. In a tangle of legs, arms, a blazer and a backpack, Tristan managed to find her angelic face, looking quite flustered and embarrassed. Hurriedly, she sought out his hand and was promptly pulled from her piteous and awkward -- um -- arrangement.  
  
" *Woo* H-ha, a little tipsy...thanks."  
  
One glance up from her shameful downcast stare and she was puddy again.  
  
" Don't look at me like that," she ordered, fixing her skirt and gathering her belongings.  
  
Tristan began helping her so he could be distracted from the image of her toppling out of his car and he would, therefore, not laugh so hard.  
  
" Like what?"  
  
" Like I just made a complete idiot out of myself."  
  
" You had a clumsy moment -- we all have our clumsy moments, no harm done."  
  
" Yeah except to my ass," she mumbled, rubbing said body part.  
  
" Excuse me, did Ms. Gilmore just use a word of profanity," he clarified, wearing that grin.  
  
" She did, and now she's leaving," she snipped, attempted to truck- off without letting him respond.  
  
" Wait, wait a second -- you left this."  
  
He handed her the object in question, which happened to be her jacket, then he shoved his hands in his pockets and waited.  
  
" Thanks."  
  
" You're welcome."  
  
Then, in a surge of throwing-caution-to-the-wind, she grabbed the back of his neck and kissed him -- she kissed him good. But there was no long period of time to reciprocate really, because again she was off. Tristan figured he'd better be satisfied and headed back to his car.  
  
After the kiss and her ever-so-graceful stepping out of Tristan's silver Lexus SC430, Rory managed to trudge up the walkway and up the stairs of her porch, and into her house, which awaited her with the smell of fresh- brewing coffee.... wait... fresh-brewing coffee?! But she turned off Mr. Coffee this morning, or at least she thought she did, had she overlooked it for the first time in her life, was her house in the process of burning down, what was she gonna do, should she call the police, w--  
  
All her frantic mind-talking and panicking came to a screeching halt when she saw her mom, sitting at the kitchen table, with a large mug of steaming hot coffee in her hand, looking as idle as someone who just robbed a bank.  
  
" Hi mom," Rory greeted cautiously, putting her keys down and stepping more into the space.  
  
Lorelai pasted on a less-than-not-guilty smile on her face.  
  
" Daughter -- how was your day?"  
  
" Oh God, what did I do, you called me daughter."  
  
" *Uh* That's preposterous! Don't be ridiculous, dear, you haven't done anything, why would you think that? Who was that boy, and why was he here, and what was he doing kissing you? Hahaha..."  
  
" I knew you had a motive," Rory accused, settling in and pouring herself a cup of coffee.  
  
" Oh come on, you knew I was gonna ask, why would you act like you had some to hide, eh? Now come one, who is he?"  
  
" *Sigh* Tristan..."  
  
" Tristan? Stalker Tristan!!! Mr. 'I will kiss you and not let you wallow' Tristan. Ah yes, it's all coming back to me now, I remember, and good Lord is he hot! You never told me he was hot!"  
  
" I told you he was boy band material," she claimed.  
  
" Yes, well, Chris Kirkpatrick is also considered such, and he --is, um...so Tristan's hot, huh?"  
  
Rory laughed a little and nursed her coffee mug.  
  
" I have no idea what's wrong with me."  
  
" Why is something wrong with you? So you kissed him, that doesn't make you his love slave, although that does sound promising."  
  
" But it does, and that's why I kissed him -- kiss him."  
  
" Because you're his love slave," Lorelai inquired, quirking an eyebrow and putting on her demon face.  
  
" Yes! ..... no, NO! I'm not his love slave, I'm his -- occasional make-out partner."  
  
" Ah, life is nothing without one of those, you know your father was mine, and let me tell you, he w...."  
  
" Gross. Okay, gross Mom. Plethora of bad mental images --"  
  
" Sorry. So do you like him?"  
  
" I don't know -- I like certain things about him."  
  
" For instance...."  
  
" His lips -- and his eyes -- and his smile -- and his laugh -- and his body, oh my God his body, and his hair, and his walk, and his -- Adam's apple!"  
  
Immediately she buried her face in her hands to hide her shame.  
  
" Man oh man, do you have it bad," Lorelai diagnosed, wide-eyed.  
  
" I know," came Rory's muffled response.  
  
" W-well, sweetie, if you don't like what he's doing to you, maybe -- maybe I can meet with him, and y'know, skin him alive or roast him slowly over an open fire."  
  
" But I do like it! That's the thing. Oh, and you're gonna meet him tonight at dinner....tonight at dinner! Oh crap, oh geez, I have to take a shower, I have get dressed, we're going to be late, we can't be late, Grandma hates it when we're late, Mom why aren't you getting ready?!!"  
  
" Rory, darling, it's barely five."  
  
Rory paused from her rant and tried to level herself.  
  
" Oh."  
  
" Yes, oh."  
  
As Rory slumped back in the chair, her brown hair in a static-y mess, Lorelai observed her and was prepared to offer her wise counsel for the day.  
  
" My dear, sweet, precious offspring, I think you need to have some cool-out time, y'know? Take a nap, relax, read a book, get your mind off of highly-attractive Prep school boys who want to make-out with you -- you're burnt, hon."  
  
" I am, aren't I," she asked absent-mindedly, a glazed look in her eye.  
  
" Yes you are, go lay down."  
  
Rory began to obey, getting up and shuffling toward her room.  
  
" He really is coming to dinner Mom, I invited him," she said over her shoulder as Lorelai ushered her into bed.  
  
" Oh I believe you, honey, I do -- in ya' go."  
  
* * * * * *  
  
Rory evaluated herself in front of the mirror -- her hair was down and slightly curled on the ends, accentuating her layers; her make-up was smoky, a touch of mascara and eye shadow bordering her crystal-blue eyes, a little blush, and Hint-of-Crimson lip gloss. She was wearing a deep-red, somewhat-lacy, cap-sleeve blouse with a low boat-neck line, fitting in all the right places, complimented by a black, layered knee-length skirt (the kind that twirls with you when you spin in circles) and strappy heels. Now just some black, dangly earrings and a necklace to match... Maybe she was overdressed -- no, no she wasn't overdressed, she was underdressed, she needed to change immediately! Okay, no, this is the 20th outfit she'd tried on, and she'd be damned if she was going to try on anything else. She was fine. Time to bug Lorelai.  
  
" Mom, come on, let's go!"  
  
" Relax I'm almost ready," Lorelai called from upstairs, then shortly after, came tromping down at her daughter's request.  
  
" Mom, we're gonna be late!!!"  
  
" No we're not."  
  
" Well it's Friday night, and traffic's always bad on Friday night," Rory reminded.  
  
" Since when?"  
  
" Since the beginning of time."  
  
" Or since the beginning of your Tristan obsession, 'Swimfan'," Lorelai teased.  
  
" Better movie analogy, please."  
  
" You look hot."  
  
" What?"  
  
" Why do you look hot?"  
  
" I don't look hot, Mom."  
  
" Honey, you're gorgeous, and you get it from me, and I know when I look hot, so you definitely look hot."  
  
" Can we move in the general direction of the door, please?"  
  
" I don't know why you're so eager to leave, he isn't even here yet."  
  
Lorelai spoke too soon, as the doorbell rang. Rory froze on the spot, then quick as lightning went through a hasty primping ritual that couldn't have been healthy and lunged for the door, only to be stopped by her parental unit and cast aside.  
  
" Not so fast, Missy, it's my turn with him."  
  
Haughtily throwing a teasing glare at Rory, she opened the front door and halted.  
  
It was Tristan alright, in all his GQ Model glory -- his black blazer, slacks, and shoes were illuminated by the light blue button-up dress shirt underneath. Momma taught this boy how to wear some clothes.  
  
" Hello there," Lorelai greeted, smiling lazily.  
  
Tristan stared back at the dark-haired beauty before him -- Rory's mother, no doubt, and it was clear where her stunning good looks came from. *Charm don't fail me now.*  
  
" Hi -- I'm Tristan - DuGrey, you must be Ms. Gilmore," he extended his hand.  
  
" Ahaha, call me Ms. Gilmore and I'll shoot you and make it look like an accident, hahaha...."  
  
Tristan's smile faltered briefly as he continued to shake her hand. Around the corner, Rory smacked her forehead at her mother's antics and cursed under her breath.  
  
" Kidding...call me Lorelai."  
  
" Lorelai it is."  
  
It was then that Rory composed herself and appeared onto the scene, stepping up beside Lorelai (or Miss Pedophile 2003 as she was calling her at the moment). Tristan's smile left and his expression grew awe-filled. His staring was shameless, and as many time as he gave her the once-over, he couldn't stop looking at her eyes. His heart ached and it almost hurt to look at her, but he couldn't tear his gaze away. Lorelai, being the adroit woman she was, decided to leave the scene.  
  
" Well, kids, I'll be in the car."  
  
She grabbed the keys at that time and exited the premises, but not before throwing Rory a naughty eyebrow face and winking. Rory rolled her eyes and laughed to herself.  
  
" Hi."  
  
Tristan cracked a grin at her salutation, shoving his hands in his pockets out of habit.  
  
" Hey."  
  
Staring and silence, staring and silence, staring and silence...  
  
" You look -- amazing," he said finally.  
  
She ducked her head diffidently and smiled.  
  
" Thanks....so do you."  
  
Grin growing wider, resolve growing thinner.  
  
" I mean, you look -- you're -- good, you look good," she stumbled over her words, then shook her head at herself and got her purse of the table by the door.  
  
When she went back to her original spot, Tristan had already cradled her face with his hands and begun kissing her. It started off slow, stayed slow, and ended slow, a gradual tangle of lips and tongue -- and Hint-of- Crimson gloss, as Rory noticed when they drew back enough from each other.  
  
" Sorry," he apologized, though he didn't know why.  
  
" Yeah well, next time I'll have to use my pepper spray."  
  
They both laughed, though Rory more than Tristan, for obvious reasons.  
  
" My mom's waiting," she reminded.  
  
" Yeah -- yeah, we should go."  
  
Rory started laughing again before she could even open the door.  
  
" What," he asked, smiling.  
  
" N-nothing, it's just your *laughing* -- you've got -- lip gloss on your *laughing*...."  
  
Tristan nodded and took the hint, missing the spot completely.  
  
" Here...let me -- get it..."  
  
Rory held one side of his face so he wouldn't move, and wiped off his mouth with the thumb from her other hand. All Tristan could do was stare. There was going to be lots of staring.  
  
* * * * * *  
  
" Tristan, how's your grandfather, is he in good health?"  
  
Tristan looked away from Rory and tried to make it look like he was looking up from his plate at Emily's inquiry.  
  
" He's great actually, he's - uh - taking a break from the firm and vacationing in the Mediterranean with my grandmother."  
  
" And your parents are well?"  
  
" Oh, they're -- they're something," he answered with a hint of disdain.  
  
" Ah the firm -- it's been ages since I last talked with old Janlen, I can't believe he's not dead yet," Richard said fondly.  
  
" Oh he's too stubborn to die," Tristan informed, wrenching a hearty laugh in return.  
  
Lorelai rolled her eyes at Rory -- Emily had been interrogating Tristan about everything under the sun for the past fifteen minutes, she was astonished the poor boy had lasted this long. But then she figured he was used to imposing gossips by now and he had trained responses to questions (somewhat similar to Jehovah's Witnesses) like a good rich kid would.  
  
" Hey Mom, let's talk about something else," Lorelai cut in.  
  
" What do you mean, Lorelai?"  
  
" I mean, let's talk about something else."  
  
" Well, Lorelai, what would you like to talk about?"  
  
" I dunno -- sports, the weather, latest news from Washington, plastic surgery horror stories, anything."  
  
" This pork is fresh from overseas, but I think it's too tough, maybe it was cooked for too long, it tastes over-cooked, what do you think of the pork, Rory," Emily solicited, ignoring Lorelai's suggestions.  
  
" It's good," she managed, caught in Tristan Land.  
  
" I'm not sure, Richard?"  
  
" It's fine."  
  
" I'm not sure."  
  
" It's really good, Mom."  
  
" Yes, well, I'm not sure."  
  
" Pork is bred leaner these days. It has a different taste. Less fat equals less flavor. Yet another example of the great advances man has made -- flavorless pork. Hurrah for the opposable thumbs."  
  
"What do you think about the pork, Tristan?"  
  
Rory noticed how her voice suddenly got sweeter when referring to him, and she hid a smile behind her current bite of undecided pork.  
  
" It's delectable, Mrs. Gilmore."  
  
Lorelai mouthed Tristan's response across the table to her daughter and sent a side-long glance next to her in Tristan's direction, trying to get a rise.  
  
" Oh, well -- if you say so."  
  
The entire table, save Tristan, looked at Emily at her strange behavior.  
  
" What? I'm glad my guest is enjoying his food, is that so wrong? Can't my guest enjoy his food?"  
  
" Of course he can, dear," Richard pacified.  
  
" Actually, Mom, he's RORY'S guest, RORY invited him -- remember RORY?"  
  
" All the same, Lorelai, this is my home..."  
  
" Our home..." interjected Richard.  
  
" And if he is in this house, then he is considered a guest of this house, and he is therefore, my guest."  
  
" Mother, I find it hard to believe you're being this possessive over someone you just met," Lorelai retorted.  
  
" Who's being possessive? If I were being possessive, which I am not, I would be possessive over the fact that I want people to like coming into my home..."  
  
" Our home, Emily..."  
  
" Yes Richard, and I want them to enjoy our company, and enjoy our conversation, and enjoy our food, is that so wrong, Lorelai, to want guests to enjoy things?"  
  
" Of course not, Mom, what was I thinking?"  
  
" Well you were thinking that you could try and single-handedly sabotage my lovely plans for this evening by starting some juvenile grade- school argument about a guest of mine enjoying his food!"  
  
" Mom, *really*, I'm sorry I brought it up, can we please drop it," Lorelai begged, already weary from barely a minute of fighting.  
  
" No we cannot 'drop it', Lorelai; once the conversation turns to addressing one of your faults, you want to change the subject and talk about something else -- do you enjoy running from things? Does that give you some sort of pleasure?"  
  
Lorelai shut her eyes, hoping it was all a dream.  
  
" How are we even talking about this right now," she asked, not expecting a reply.  
  
" You wanted to change the topic of discussion, so let's change it -- let's talk about why Lorelai cowers from confrontation and intentionally overlooks her faults just to spite others, namely her family members, and makes them feel bad for perfectly legitimate aspirations, why don't we talk about that Lorelai?!"  
  
" Rory, why don't you give Tristan a tour of the grounds," Richard interpolated, even as he was unheard by other constituents of the table.  
  
Rory stopped rubbing her temples and rolling her eyes and gladly accepted an escape from her current situation. Tristan, who had been looking on in awe, followed in bewilderment. Safely around the corner, she let out a sigh of relief.  
  
" God Tristan -- I am *so* sorry you had to be here for this, with the stupid arguing and the...they're normally really good -- really."  
  
Tristan gave her a gracious, understanding smile.  
  
" It's okay, *really* -- my life is full of dinner fiascos and public grapples and unveilings of humiliating and sordid pasts in all varieties -- you do *not* need to apologize to me."  
  
" Oh I forgot, Tristan DuGrey is the Playboy Extraordinaire of the Year, how could I have been so foolish," Rory teased.  
  
He chuckled, knowing she meant it in jest.  
  
" It's a trying profession but hey -- the little people need me, right?"  
  
" What would they do without you," she mock-swooned, clinging to his arm to cop-a-feel of his biceps. He had, after all, shed his jacket earlier before dinner and had taken the liberty to unbutton another button and roll up his sleeves. Thank God he wasn't wearing an undershirt.  
  
" Perish and fade to nothing, of course."  
  
She then let her hand trail down his arm and hooked her fingers between his. He looked down then back up at her. She was grinning, so it couldn't have been an accident.  
  
" Come on, I have to give you the tour," she prodded, dragging him along.  
  
" Y'know, Gilmore, skip the bedrooms -- really, I know you want to get me all alone, tear my clothes off and do ungodly things to me, but you're just going to have to wait a *little* longer.."  
  
Her eyes rolled his way, and her face feigned disinterest.  
  
" Make the torture stop, I can't take it," Rory replied blandly, hearing his chuckle in return. All the while, she was looking up and down the halls for an appropriate place to show him and have him bedazzled.  
  
" Hey....."  
  
His tugging on her hand made her stop in the hasty pursuit. Turning to see what he wanted, she found out in an expedient manner -- everyone? (Fake chorus of voices in my head) HE WANTED TO KISS HER!!!! -- That's right boys and girls. And he did.  
  
She somewhat predicted his action and was one step ahead of him, running her free hand over his chest and curling it around the back of his neck (her favorite spot, she was discovering). His hand brought hers around the other side of his neck then detached from it so his could splay her lower back. Nipping, tonguing, enveloping, more tonguing, and a little more nipping --  
  
Seeing as how they were moving backward, Rory blindly fumbled for the doorknob behind her while trying to get more of Tristan's kisses, all thoughts of flavorless pork far from both their minds.  
  
* * * * * *  
  
Oh Lordy -- that was the longest chapter I think I've ever done. Hope you all appreciate my blood, sweat and tears, not to mention the hours, the COUNTLESS hours that I've put into this, I've slaved away over a hot stove cooking all your meals, and doing all your dishes -- for God's sakes I even do your laundry!!!!  
  
I mean.....  
  
R&R? Heh, yeah......  
  
THANKS TO THE REVIEWERS:  
  
samantha, Roxy, girl devil, coincidence casualty, piper-h-99, Amber, LizDarcy, Trory4ever, LittleAngelInLove, Nikki, Leah, Julianne, LandonLover, BTVSGoddess, Mandie, Chelle, Jayta, Alece, rach, eli, Little Miss Lena, Surya (kiss kiss u slut -- luv ya!), paige, Iannah, Emily, csk8- 20, and trulyrockbands  
  
You guys are great!!! And I'm TIRED OF TYPING!!!  
  
(Sickening laugh follows....)  
  
Okay bye guys, R&R, and I love all the Harem Residents immeasurably, hehe *wink wink* 


	8. Hot Spot

DISCLAIMER: *shakes head*  
  
A/N: Whoa -- so it's been a couple millennia since I updated, shoot me...okay please don't shoot me! I'M SORRY GUYS!!!! I'm a bad trory- goddess, I deserve a spanking -- a long one, so just send CMM on over and I'll be happy to --  
  
Oh...sorry.  
  
Yeah so this chapter's been a long time coming, I've been very lazy, and I apologize. I hope it's worth the wait, and feedback is always appreciated, you know that -- *psh* I don't have to tell you guys...  
  
SHOUT-OUTS:  
  
Surya - Apryl!!! MY MARSHES!!!! HOW I love thee, sooooooooooo much! Thank you for being so wonderful and for putting up with me and my weirdnesses -- my innumerable weirdnesses, my countless weirdnesses, my infinite weirdnesses, my -- see what I mean, yeah. Your so talented and funny and you make everything great for me. Your input in my life (not just my writing) is invaluable and I'm so glad to know you, 'cause you're amazing...  
  
"Bay-bay, you're amaziiiiing -- and I waaant to let you seeee -- you are everything and mooore to me, I will let you be -- I will, I will..."  
  
K, I won't smother anymore with the lyrics, *smooches* and thank you so mush.  
  
Naters - Tin Man, you're a very cool, cool guy and I love ya hunny, I really do. Thanks for being the ultimate slamming partner (beware the Duff and Beyonce's orgasms during her songs, lol) and for all the great laughs and chats about whatever, you're such a great listener and you're so understanding -- you brighten my day sweetie, and I look forward to talkin' to ya. Ciao Gianni -- *wink*  
  
Bumble - What can I say James? You rock the house, you rock it so hard it's not rockable anymore, off the heezy for sheezy, my nizzle -- I love you Bumbles and thank you for all your feedback and for not running scared when I got a little OC in our chats, haha -- greatness, that's you babe, greatness.  
  
Llama - Oh Suser-ooni, you're my bundle of sunshine on a stick (lol -- wooty woot woot)! I love ya sweets, and thanks for all the input and recommendations and for being so reliable, I really appreciate that. Always remember Kuzco -- and Kronk too, hehe...ah the memories...so many...  
  
Pri - The Meister!! My spell-check goddess, I make offerings at your altar for the immeasurable wisdom -- *eyes roll back in head* oooooowwwwwmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm..oh, um...so I love you hunny cakes! Thanks for the feedback and stuff and junk; my shit would be even shittier if you didn't help me out every now and then, haha -- and as always, the chats, so fruitful (i.e. quoting the Jabberwocky from Lewis Carroll). Much love!  
  
Sweet - MELLERS! ... Ha, man, my nickname complex is out of control, I need to get a handle on that -- lol...gosh! I didn't know we had so much in COMMON!! Getting to know you has been a blast, our chats are always so fun -- who knew that a phenomenal talent like yourself would be interested in chatting with me, I'm beside myself, really. Thanks for -- bein' you, babe. Love and kisses!  
  
Lessa - Babe, the smut flows from you like the Nile through Egypt -- it just...flows. Okay so that was a bad simile, but we'll forgive me for that. Thank you for being so fun to chat with and for reading my stuff and telling me what you think -- so important to me -- and thanks for letting me read your fics, 'cause they kick some major donkey ASS (and that is a good thing). You're a great person, and I'm so happy to know you hun! TTYS, *hug* love ya!  
  
Alright all, R&R, and I hope you enjoy!  
  
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *  
  
A Kiss Is Still A Kiss  
  
PART VII: Hot Spot  
  
Stumbling into unknown territory and passionately joined at the mouth as well as any other feasible body part that presented itself, Tristan and Rory found themselves in an interesting position; here they were, at Rory's grandparents house, in the -- where the hell where they?  
  
Tristan cracked an eye open and saw they were in fact in some sort of study; it was well-lit and there were lots of books and -- ooo a table! Taking control, he lifted Rory off her feet, walked toward the desk, knocked off most of the items present to clear a path, and firmly planted her sitting apparatus on top. Then he thought for a moment and broke the kissing.  
  
"Was there anything important on this desk?"  
  
His inquiry made her look off the edge to assess what damage had been done: a stack of papers, a name plate, one of those fancy pen modules, a paper weight and a packet of stationery.  
  
"Nope, no sir, all materials appear unimportant sir. Proceed with make-out protocol on the double."  
  
"Is it weird that I'm turned on by you talking like that?"  
  
"Just a little but we'll overlook it for the time being."  
  
"Good great wonderful."  
  
And the kissing continued -- but it was more than kissing after all. Tristan delved the cavity of Rory's mouth with his tongue, running his hands from her face, down her torso and up her skirt to grasp her "sitting apparatus" and pull her closer. All this had the goal of getting her horizontal on the desk, you see. Meanwhile, Rory cleaved to the back of Tristan's neck and feared she might break her own if his kisses became any more demanding, so she lowered her upper body onto the desktop, taking Tristan, his lips, and his roaming hands down with her.  
  
This now presented a precarious scenario, since her legs were still dangling over the edge; naturally Tristan read her mind and brought her legs up around his waist until a very familiar hardness pressed in between...ah, so that's what it felt like. It wasn't the first time Rory had encountered his -- um -- member, but it had never been so -- pronounced before now, so she was a little intimidated. But then again, the way his hips occasionally ground against hers and how she immediately responded, not to mention the unmistakable mark he was leaving behind her ear with his mouth seemed to alleviate and erase any anxiety.  
  
A brief moment of clarity came when Tristan's kissing began to move further south.  
  
"Tris..."  
  
Her voice sounded foreign to her, seeing as how she had forgotten she could talk because of all the moaning that had been going on.  
  
"Hm," came his muffled response as he nipped at the flesh above her collarbone.  
  
"Maybe we -- sh-- should, um, stop," she bit out, his actions clearly distracting her.  
  
"Probably," he returned, having found his way to the skin under her blouse.  
  
Thank the Lord for low-cut necklines.  
  
"I mean, because -- what if somebody catches us -- y-you'd never be able to come to Friday night dinners ever again."  
  
He removed the barrier her brassiere presented and devoured her nipple before she could say any word to the contrary.  
  
"We cant have that," Tristan agreed, teasing her flesh mercilessly with his tongue and teeth.  
  
Rory mildly shrieked, hitting an octave she was sure didn't register then pushing the apex of her legs aggressively against his ever-growing erection, rejoicing in the hiss she extracted from his otherwise-occupied mouth.  
  
"No we can't," she reiterated, repeating her previous action just for the hell of it.  
  
"Fuck Rory..."  
  
He paused from his torture and rested his forehead in the valley below her neck to catch his breath.  
  
*Ah so it was too much for him, eh?* she mused haughtily.  
  
How in the holy name of the Lord did one simple action from her send him off the cliff of insanity? It was witch craft or voodoo or some sort of black magic, it had to be. But then again, the likelihood of Rory dabbling in the black arts was about as probable as Mother Teresa having been a closet porn star. She was simply intoxicating, he'd leave it at that  
  
"We cant do this," she concluded once again.  
  
His whine of displeasure said it all - almost.  
  
"God I know," he groaned, simultaneously letting her up to fix her disheveled appearance and looking away so as not to become more aroused than he already was -- didn't help, but he tried.  
  
"Why couldn't you have picked a bedroom, Ror?"  
  
"Hey this is your fault; you started this, with your grinning and your come-hither eyes what was I supposed to do?"  
  
"Come hither, huh?"  
  
"Shut up."  
  
He chuckled, shaking his head.  
  
Once she seemed moderately presentable, she glanced over at Tristan: he was leaning one hand and his body weight on the bookshelf across the room, and with the other he dug his fingers through his hair, almost as if there was some purity lotion on them that he could rub into his scalp to cleanse his mind from all sexual content.  
  
He took a deep breath and got up the never to turn and face her; and just stood there, wringing her hands and glancing around nervously before her eyes locked with his.  
  
"Stop," he commanded.  
  
"Stop what?"  
  
"Looking all -- *waves his hand around* -- sexy and desirable."  
  
"I'm not doing anything," she reminded with a smile."  
  
"STOP!"  
  
"What?!"  
  
"No smiling, you can't smile."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Because...you just can't alright?"  
  
"Okay," she complied, biting her bottom lip out of habit.  
  
"JESUS will you STOP IT?!"  
  
"I didn't do anything!"  
  
"Yes you did -- that - biting your lip thing, you did it, I saw you."  
  
"I cant do that either?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Well what d'you want me to do?"  
  
"I dunno...take my eyes out of my sockets, cuz then I cant see , or jab hot needles in my ears, and then I cant hear you -- or - or take the ash shovel from the fireplace and hack off my hands, because then I cant touch you -- its full proof, I'll be fine," he said dramatically with a cracking voice."  
  
"Gross, I'm not doing that. Besides I like your eyes and your ears and your hands where they are. They're good things to have, I wouldn't want to be responsible for mutilating a good thing."  
  
"But I'm letting you!"  
  
"They're important to me!"  
  
"Okay stop!"  
  
"God, what now?!"  
  
"You're being sweet, that qualifies as sexy."  
  
"You're deranged."  
  
"Well you would be too if you were me right now, okay?"  
  
"Well if I cant be sexy then neither can you!"  
  
"I'm sorry that's just not possible."  
  
"And why not?"  
  
"Because it's part of who I am -- I cant change it -- come with the package, darlin'."  
  
It was true, he did ooze sex appeal  
  
"Yeah, well the package I got came with too much ego, I'm sending it back."  
  
He laughed genuinely, running a hand through his spiky hair.  
  
"Ha! See that, you're being sexy!"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Upupup, no smiling -- too sexy."  
  
"Oh I'm sorry."  
  
"Cant talk either -- you have a sexy voice."  
  
Tristan raised an eyebrow then clenched his jaw to keep the grin from his face, swallowing.  
  
"You swallowed, I saw your Adam's apple move, that's definitely not allowed."  
  
A smirk tugged at the corners of his gorgeous mouth, but a warning finger point from Rory sent it packing. She scrutinized him for any other signs of seductive quality.  
  
"Close your eyes," she ordered.  
  
He made a 'What the hell are you talking about' face.  
  
"Hello? Come-hither look -- you couldn't have forgotten already, that's just disappointing."  
  
Fighting the laughter that bubbled in his throat, he did as he was told.  
  
"Now all you have to do is wish your body away and we'll be just fine."  
  
"You first," he prompted.  
  
"*Ahem* Ex-nay on the alking-tay, and that was clearly a smirk."  
  
Tristan broke character, giving up the charade and letting out a chuckle.  
  
"Rory this is stupid."  
  
"Blame yourself, you instated the 'no sexiness' rule, I was merely a pawn and had no other choice but to play along or be annihilated."  
  
"Forget the rule -- we have to do something about this."  
  
"This?"  
  
"Yeah this -- the making out, the groping, the almost-having-sex-in- inconvenient-places..."  
  
"Oh that...this..."  
  
Suddenly he felt very nervous, and it showed.  
  
Rory didn't know what to think -- she'd never seen him nervous before, DuGreys don't get nervous.  
  
"It means something, doesn't it? Us ending up together all the time, and inevitably being in the other's personal space, it's not just coincidence, I know it's not."  
  
"It's not coincidence," she agreed.  
  
"And I like you."  
  
She smiled.  
  
"I like you too."  
  
"Okay."  
  
"Okay."  
  
Pausing......  
  
"That still doesn't address the making-out, almost-having-sex thing does it?"  
  
"Well, we established that we do it, and why we do it -- just -- not -- not if we're gonna stop doing it."  
  
"Right," he answered, acting like he understood that it might need to stop and swallowing the lump in his throat.  
  
"I don't think we should," she told him.  
  
"You don't?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because I...like you."  
  
His grin reappeared, much to the dismay of her resolve.  
  
"I like you too."  
  
"Okay."  
  
"Okay."  
  
There was a mutual staring period where Rory crossed her arms over her chest and Tristan shoved his hands in his pockets. Finally, he got up the courage to move a little closer so he was standing right in front of her.  
  
"So...what does that mean -- exactly?"  
  
"Um -- what do you want it to mean?"  
  
"I want it to mean whatever you want it to mean."  
  
She opened her mouth and then shut it again, realizing he had her there, and he smiled because he knew he did.  
  
"Well...whatever I mean is what you think I think you want me to mean," she concluded lamely.  
  
He furrowed his brow, nodding.  
  
"Nice try -- but that made absolutely no sense."  
  
"Oh right...didn't think you'd catch that..."  
  
"Of course you didn't," he teased, running his fingertips along the surface of her folded arms. She visibly shivered when his hands traveled down to her back, circling the lower region, and she unconsciously placed her own hands on the solid muscular expanse in front of her that science would call a chest, then moved them around his neck.  
  
"Y'know...we skipped the whole friendship thing," she observed, trying to deter the effect he was having on her with conversation.  
  
His tongue briefly tangled with hers in a short but highly-knee-weakening kiss.  
  
"I'm gonna have to disagree with you on that -- because I happen to believe kissing is very friendly," he said huskily, brushing his mouth against the tip or her nose before going in for the kill and kissing her again.  
  
This one was longer than the last, for which Rory was very thankful, because this time she could respond more fervently in hopes of letting him catch a glimpse of what it was he did to her that made her knees buckle and her stomach cramp up with nerves and desire all at the same time.  
  
Breathless, Tristan pulled away from the kiss and rested his forehead against hers.  
  
"Okay, I take it back -- that was completely more than friendly."  
  
Rory grinned, nodding in agreement.  
  
"I told you, but no -- you would not listen."  
  
"So, I hope this means that you're - "  
  
Her expression said 'go on' as she widened her eyes and leaned in a bit.  
  
"Are you - I w - see the thing is -- y'know the, um....."  
  
"Why yes Tristan, I would love to go out on a date with you," she cut in, completing his sentence, "You don't have to beg you know."  
  
He made a that's so funny face and gave a bemused laugh, poking her in the side.  
  
"You're -- cute, really."  
  
"Yes I know -- it comes with the package," she said haughtily, buffing her nails and flipping her hair.  
  
He chuckled, shaking his head. Presently, a muffled voice called from the hallway, and they broke apart like one of them had leprosy.  
  
"Rory? Rory are you in h -- oh, there you are...Tristan."  
  
"Sir," he nodded in response.  
  
"Good well -- it seems, Rory, that your mother and my wife are not speaking to each other. Now might be a good time to 'make a break for it', as the saying goes," Richard advised in a low tone.  
  
"Okay -- Tristan, coats are this way, and Grampa, tell Siri that dinner was delicious --what we got eat of it anyway."  
  
"Yes, the pork was -- good," Tristan added then scrunched up his brow as to why he said anything at all.  
  
She gave him a funny look then lead him out of the study, brushing past her grandfather.  
  
Before Richard closed the door, he caught out of the corner of his eye a disarray of office supplies, scattered on the floor. He figured one of the maids had had a clumsy moment and left it at that.  
  
* * * * * *  
  
"Can we please have two glazed donuts to go?"  
  
Tristan continued to shake his head, laughing to himself.  
  
"*Rolling eyes* Again with the laughing -- what is so funny, " Rory asked, looking over her shoulder at him.  
  
"Nothing I -- I just can't believe you wanted our first date to be going to a bakery in Hartford for donuts -- y'know what happened to me spoiling you with dinner from a fancy restaurant where everyone's favorite past time is staring at their own reflection?"  
  
"Oh I'm so sorry Mr. DuGrey to be denying you the pleasure of flaunting your bank account in my face -- we'll embellish next time, I promise," she said gaudily.  
  
"I guess I'll try to forgive you, though flaunting is what I live for -- whatever shall I do," he drawled in a 'damsel-in-distress' tone.  
  
"Enjoy your donut," she filled in, shoving the treat in his face and taking a large bite from her own.  
  
He received it, grinning good-naturedly before following her out of the shop and onto the sidewalk.  
  
"How'd you know about this place anyway?"  
  
Her incoherent words were muffled by the unsafe amount of food she had in her mouth at the present time.  
  
He eyed her as well as the food bits that flew from her mouth.  
  
"Oh really you don't say," he teased.  
  
Finally able to chew and swallow she responded.  
  
"My grandparents would come out here some weekends when we left the country club during the summer -- it's a nice little place; besides, wherever I go I have to pick out the baked goods hot spots, it's a hobby."  
  
"Clearly."  
  
During a brief pause, Rory soon saw that she was finished with her donut and he wasn't finished with his, so she stared hungrily at his last few juicy bites.  
  
Seeing her drool at the sight of him eating, he paused mid-bite and looked at her.  
  
"What?"  
  
No words, just wide eyes were her reply.  
  
"No."  
  
"Please?"  
  
"No, I fully plan on enjoying this donut -- its mine."  
  
"Pleeeeeeeeease *pokes out lip*?"  
  
"Don't even pull that with me, Gilmore, I'm immune to your wily charms."  
  
She drew closer, wrapping her arms around his waist so her head was tilted back and up in his direction.  
  
"Please Tristan -- please?"  
  
Damn it, just -- damn it, he mused, regretting the strong hold she had on him...literally.  
  
"It's not gonna work..."  
  
If it was possible, she got even cuter and started whimpering, nuzzling against and kissing the crook of his neck because she discovered it was a weakness of his.  
  
Rolling his eyes, he gave in.  
  
"Open your mouth."  
  
Giddily, she clapped and waited for him to place the morsel inside said body part.  
  
What he didn't expect was her long, drawn-out eating from his hand which included taking his index and thumb into her mouth and sucking them dry of all donut contents -- his throat was very parched all of a sudden.  
  
She had no idea what made her do that, but then again, Tristan was known for awakening things in her that weren't the norm, so she just went with it, loving the control and power she derived from one simple action.  
  
"Thank you," she said and started down the sidewalk again.  
  
He smirked to himself, laughing quietly and shaking his head once again -- conundrum.  
  
"You, Rory Gilmore, are a tease," he observed, catching up to her.  
  
"No I'm not you just think I am -- your mind resides at 69 Gutter Lane and you know it, I am innocent."  
  
"69 Gutter Lane? Okay the fact that you even came up with that name proves my point -- you're a sex fiend Ror a closet sex fiend, there's no need to hide it -- you've been hiding for too long now, this is a safe space," he illustrated, circling and stroking the air with his hand.  
  
"Shut UP," she said, pushing his arm and laughing at the same time.  
  
He slung the very arm she pushed over her shoulder easily as they fell into step together.  
  
"Aah it's okay -- I'll try to remain pure despite your desperate attempts to pollute me and turn me to the dark side; I have an iron-clad will, Mar, believe it or not."  
  
Unconsciously, she leaned closer and her arm crept around his waist. His smell was intoxicating, and she loved the heat radiating off his body even though it wasn't a hot day.  
  
"Oh I believe you."  
  
"Don't worry -- really, I'll -- be fine."  
  
"Who's worried, I'm not worried."  
  
"Well good, 'cause I don't want you to worry -- at all."  
  
"No worry - got it."  
  
"None."  
  
"Whatsoever."  
  
"I couldn't agree more."  
  
"Me either."  
  
"Me either too."  
  
"No worry -- gone, forever."  
  
"Glad to hear it."  
  
"Do you think you should stop this now?"  
  
"Yeah we should."  
  
"You mean you should."  
  
"No I meant we."  
  
"Oh of course, my mistake," she conceded, her tone severely lacking in sincerity.  
  
"Atleast you're humble about it, y'know -- it's hard for most people to -- adapt to always being wrong," he explained to her, getting a mock- lofty look in his eye.  
  
"Where's the mute? Do you have an off button?"  
  
"Yes I do -- actually, I have an on button as well."  
  
Smoldering Tristan returned, and she got excited.  
  
"Really where?!"  
  
"Uhuhuh, you have to guess..."  
  
"Is this gonna take a long time?"  
  
"Not really no -- besides, I thought you liked games."  
  
"I do -- games are fun. But it's not a game if I'm the only one playing -- then it's just humiliation."  
  
He chuckled, nodding.  
  
"This is true, but see -- I already know where yours is, so -- my part of the game is done."  
  
"Oh really?"  
  
His quiet confident nod accompanied by a smirk only made her that much more stubborn.  
  
"So where is it?"  
  
The walking stopped and he faced her, though they were still very close, and she waited expectantly, quite curious.  
  
Her eyes widened and she gulped when he leaned forward, his lips grazing the spot where her neck sloped down and met her shoulder before darting his tongue out in a quick yet leisurely pace and nibbling on the flesh delicately while his hand crept around her waist.  
  
The descriptive word for her would be jello --- gelatinous all the way, this could go on forever -- NO, he was NOT going to be right, NO.  
  
She pushed him off of her lightly, still pretty lethargic.  
  
"You cheated -- that's everybody's on button, no effort, none."  
  
He quirked an eyebrow,  
  
"Okay so there was a little effort, but predictable -- so predictable."  
  
"I wasn't done Rory."  
  
"What do you mean you weren't done?"  
  
"I only did that because I enjoy it -- a lot..."  
  
She blushed involuntarily.  
  
"I still know where yours is though -- besides the obvious."  
  
"Surprise me."  
  
Soon Rory felt him place one of his hands on her neck and the other on the side of her torso, slithering its way inside the hem of her top and grazing the skin on her stomach with his fingertips just above her -- *ahem* southern regions -- guarded by her jeans. She shuddered, biting her lip as his fingers danced in and around her navel and she almost said his name very loudly -- almost. Dammit, they were in public! People could see them! Just before she fell over and fainted her hand stopped him.  
  
"Okay you made your point."  
  
"I did didn't I?"  
  
"Yes you did."  
  
"Okay -- you're turn."  
  
Suddenly she became very shy and self-conscious.  
  
"Tristan...people can see..."  
  
Tristan glanced around at the few couples walking vaguely close to them and one sitting on a bench, also vaguely close.  
  
"It's Saturday morning -- okay, all the smart people are asleep."  
  
"I'll pretend you didn't say that."  
  
"Hello -- raging exhibitionist here --"  
  
"Your opinion doesn't count."  
  
"Yes it does -- and this was your idea anyway."  
  
"I..."  
  
Yeah it really was.  
  
"You wanted to guess..."  
  
"Y -- oh fine," she relented, drawing him aside to a more secluded part of the meager strip mall and giving a quick cautious scan of the premises.  
  
No one. Why did he have to be right, why?  
  
Growing pensive, she examined his form from bottom to top, leaving out the obvious area that remained universal as a possible candidate.  
  
Eventually, she invaded his personal space, running a hand through the side of his hair and down his neck, her mouth latching onto the opposite earlobe and applying slight pressure with her teeth before releasing it and stepping back a little to observe her handiwork.  
  
"O...kay..." was all he could get out, slowly opening his eyes and smiling at her satisfied grin.  
  
"Hmhm," she chuckled in a taunting tone, looking quite pleased with herself.  
  
"That was -- close..."  
  
"WHAT?"  
  
"You're good, Ror -- but not that good -- it wasn't it."  
  
Tristan tried not to fall out laughing at the pitiful shape her face had taken, settling for a quiet guffaw and scratching his neck.  
  
Rory scrambled for an alternate plan -- she was sure that was going to work, it's like the second chapter in the Male Erogenous Zone handbook, the first being painfully apparent to all who had half a brain. She stewed, she cogitated, she thought of every possible thing a guy could like or be turned on by that had ever existed at any point and time in history, it was coming to her, any minute now...  
  
Tristan's smirk left his face when he made eye contact with her and discovered a look that he thought only he could give her -- no, no way, she was not leering at him, she wasn't! HE was the leer-er, it was his occupation, he had plans to make a profit off of his leering skills, it was all mapped out damn it, she was NOT -- oh my she was getting closer.  
  
Like some sort of -- stealthy -- thing, Rory slid her hands around the back of his T-shirt pulling him flush against her then parting his fully- delicious lips in a languid, agonizingly-slow manner until not a crevice remained un-tasted. Between the stomach-cramping rhythm their kissing had become and the lazy patterns she was drawing absentmindedly on the bare skin of his lower back, Tristan pretty much felt like she had him beat. Thankfully before it got to be too much she drew away, taking his bottom lip with her for a brief second then placing a solitary kiss at the corner of his mouth.  
  
He chortled to himself, handling either side of her neck and pressing his nose and forehead against hers. When no words came, he combed his fingers through his hair then took her hand and lead her out of the corridor, down the sidewalk again.  
  
The silence brought with it another one of Rory's self-satisfied smiles, which Tristan could hear and feel a mile away, but he still stayed quiet.  
  
"Cat got your tongue?"  
  
He rolled his eyes, smirking.  
  
"Really delved deep for that one Mary."  
  
"Oh Lucifer, I do what I can," she admitted, shrugging.  
  
"Well it wasn't the cat."  
  
"It wasn't," she feigned clueless-ness.  
  
"No it wasn't."  
  
"Huh -- see that's funny, I thought sure -- it was the cat."  
  
"Are you a cat?"  
  
"Not -- essentially. But then there's the whole 'life is a circular journey' thing to consider, so who knows? Maybe I was, maybe I will be -- it's unforeseen, to be determined if you will."  
  
"Oh -- I'll keep that in mind," he conceded.  
  
"Smart boy."  
  
It was then that he allowed her to wrap his arm back around her shoulder while she found her spot around his waist, linking on to his belt loop and feeling impressed with herself the rest of the walk to the car.  
  
* * * * * *  
  
K guys, that's all for now! Chapter 9 (PartVIII) will be on its merry way hopefully before I'm old and feeble, but we'll see.  
  
Thanks to the reviewers:  
  
Chelle5, coincidence casualty, little angel in love, Luxy1, Mrs. Witter (oh Bumb!), BTVS Goddess, lin, Piper-h-99 (hi-ya Prue!), Surya (the almighty Marsh), LittleMissLena, sillylily2003, ILUVALEC, MaryATroryFan, csk8-20, xoflipditzxo, jalna, rebma1, Joie, Banana*Rach, Julianne2, Alece, Tristanlover59, and Stargirl7  
  
The support means oodles, and I love that you guys are enjoying what I enjoy doing, so -- keep it comin'! See ya soon! 


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